


Forget Me Not

by partofforever (edvic)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And I Mean Strongly Non-Canon Tom, And candy, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Non-Canon Tom, Secret Crush, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-04-03 23:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edvic/pseuds/partofforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter finds an empty diary in the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle. Why doesn't he throw it away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm moving with my older works here, so I decided to rewrite some parts of this story. I wrote it for Paimpont's "Secret crush on Harry" competition. My character was Tom Riddle's Diary and I'm quite sentimental about it, because not only the story placed second, but it was also the first long fanfiction I've ever finished. I hope you'll enjoy it :)

_Fine vapors escape from whatever is doing the living._

_The night is cold and delicate and full of angels_

_Pounding down the living. The factories are all lit up,_

_The chime goes unheard._

_We are together at last, though far apart._

John Ashbery, _The Ecclesiast_

_From River and Mountains_

Tom, something terrible has happened today! Remember when I told you that someone opened the Chamber of Secrets and Filch's cat was petrified? And today in the duelling club Harry had attacked Justin with a snake and now everyone thinks he's the heir of Salazar Slytherin! Could it be true? Tom, tell me... Harry's in Gryffindor, but he speaks parseltongue and it's so strange... I'm really afraid, Tom...

_Keep calm, Ginny. I don't understand a thing of what you're saying... Your friend is speaking with snakes? That's impossible._

But it's true, Tom. And he's send a snake after Justin. Harry's certainly the heir of Slytherin...

_He can't be._

Why?

_Ginny, just believe me. I'm your friend, ain't I? Why should I lie to you?_

Maybe you're right...

_I am right. But tell more about that fake heir of Slytherin. Who is he?_

He's Harry Potter, Tom.

_And?_

Oh, I forgot that you don't know anything...

_About?_

About him.

_Who?_

You-Know-Who.

_No, I don't know who, Ginny..._

He Who Must Not Be Named. The Dark Lord. Terrifying wizard. He killed Harry's parents and tried to kill Harry too, but he failed. And Harry was only one year old, you know. And he survived. And now he's famous all over the world. But he's also so brave and intelligent and he's the best seeker we've ever had...

_Wait a moment... You're telling me that he survived the killing curse?_

Oh, yes, he did. Isn't it amazing?

_Interesting, I'd say. And that Dark Lord? What was his name? I mean his true name. Do you know it, Ginny?_

Yes, Tom, I know, but... I can't tell you, I'm too scared of it.

_But you said he's dead – why are you still afraid then?_

No, Tom, he's not dead... Everyone had thought so, but last year he tried to return and to kill Harry again. He was here, at Hogwarts, hidden on the back of Professor Quirrel's head! Isn't that strange? And again Harry stopped him! My brother was there too, he played chess. Not normal chess of course, but giant ones. And Hermione was with them, she told them how to free from devil snare...

_Ginny, stop, please. I don't get it. That man, that dark wizard, was here? No one noticed? Maybe you've misheard something?_

He was here, Tom. I'm absolutely sure. Ron told me that Harry'd been lying in hospital wing for nearly two weeks after that.

_You're very fond of him, aren't you?_

You won't tell anyone?

_You know I won't._

I wish you could meet Harry. He's wonderful... And you're sure he's not the heir of Slytherin?

_You can trust me. He's certainly not the Slytherin's heir. But I do wish I could talk with him. And that dark wizard – could it be...? Ginny, can you tell what year it is?_

You've forgotten again?

_It seems so..._

It's 1992.

_So between now and 1941 we have?_

51 years. Why do you ask?

_So maybe it's true?_

What's true, Tom?

_Nothing important, Ginny, nothing at all._


	2. Common sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds a mysterious diary and tries to resolve the Heir of Slytherin issue.

My name is Harry Potter.

_Hello, Harry._

Who are you?

_I'm Tom Riddle._

Do you know anything about this Chamber of Secrets?

_Yes, I do._

Can you tell me?

_No._

_But I can show you._

...

It's not true! Hagrid wouldn't do something like that! I don't believe you!

_But it is true, Harry._

You're lying!

_Even if I was lying, why do you care so much about this big dumb idiot?_

How dare you ? He's my friend!

_He's you're friend? Surprising, I'd say. Why someone like you, Harry Potter, would befriend someone like him? I don't understand... You're a rather unexpected wizard. Half-giant's friend. Mudblood's rescuer. Companion of blood traitors. And Lord Voldemort's assassin._

Where did you learn so much about me? Who are you? And Hermione's not a mudblood!

_I know rather much about you, but still I don't understand... How did you kill Voldemort?_

Why you're so interested in this matter?

_Let's say it's a personal interest._

It doesn't change anything. I don't know myself how it happened. I was only a child. I wish it had never happened in fact.

_But... why? It seems that you're powerful. Don't you want to posses more power? I can help you. You would be the master of this world._

You're very funny, Tom. Or maybe you're just an old diary talking nonsenses? I'm only 12 years old, you know. I only want to pass my final exams. And to find that bastard, that Slytherin's heir.

_Why? You need more fame or something like that?_

What? You're completely mad, Tom. I want to find him, because if anyone else is attacked, they'll close Hogwarts.

_No school = no problem. I thought most of pupils don't enjoy learning._

It's not like that. I mean – sometimes school's a niusance, especially when you've got potions with Snape, but it's my home.

_I know your parents are gone, but you certainly have some other relatives. Living with magical family myst be wonderful..._

Maybe you had such family, but my relatives... They're the worst Muggles you could imagine. They hate magic. They hate me, too. And I must spend every summer with them... The only thing that gives me some hope in July and September is the thought that soon I'll be back at Hogwarts. And if I don't find the person who's behind these attacks, I'll never be back here. They'll send me to my aunt and uncle and I'll spend the rest of my life living like a muggle. I don't want to!

_Why did they put you in such a house? I mean, there are certainly many magical families that would like to rise you. Or maybe they should let you stay at Hogwarts during summer? I remember I asked for this when I was at school._

I don't know. But professor Dumbledore says that I have to spend every summer with my relatives...

_Dumbledore? I'd expect something like that._

You don't like him?

_Maybe it's not the proper word, but I think you can say so._

So can you help me? Do you know who's the heir of Slytherin? I know that Hagrid can't be, he wasn't in Slytherin after all.

_How would you guess?_

I thought it was Malfoy, but he's not. He told me that he doesn't know who's the heir.

_Malfoy? You mean some Abraxas Malfoy relative?_

I'm not sure...

_Pale, blond-haired and sneering nearly all the time?_

It's him! How did you know?

_Malfoys, they're all the same. But they're also valuable companions sometimes._

But what about the heir?

_Don't bother yourself with that._

How can you say so? I don't want them to close Hogwarts.

_They won't._

But how can you know?

_Believe me. Why should I lie to you?_

…

"It's strange, isn't it?", said Ron, looking through the library window. The sun was setting down slowly and soft light surrounded the meadows and the lake. Above the Forbidden Forest, a few black birds flew, and Hagrid, who had returned to the castle on the same day, was cutting the hedge in the courtyard. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the library, searching for some information about blue levitating trees for their herbology lessons. In fact only Hermione was searching for it, whilst Harry was trying to catch the golden snitch from his last quiditch match and Ron was only sitting there, bored.

"What do you mean?", asked Hermione, though she wanted to finish her work first. She wondered why did she take the boys with her – they were rather useless.

"The attacks, of course", answered the red-haired Weasley.

Hermione sighted. It was Ron's favourite topic for the past two weeks. How long will he talk about it? It was getting really boring.

"Did they catch him?", continued Ron. "I thought they'd tell us. You know, I'm rather interested in it and they haven't even told us how did he look like..."

"It's not that important, is it?", Harry laughed. Ron's problems were sometimes so funny. "I'm happy the attacks stopped. They won't close Hogwarts and that's the most important thing for me."

"But why did the heir disappear?", Ron wanted to know. As no one answered, he only muttered something like "Why you're not curious?" and turned back to them, going out of the library. Hermione didn't notice his bad humor, because she was back to her essay – in fact she was quite happy that the talk was over. Harry looked at Ron and wanted to go after him, but then he gave up. He knew that Ron's anger will disappear before dinner.

 _Maybe the heir has found some common sense in the end,_ he thought, looking at Hogwarts castle, his home.


	3. Underestimation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry looks for help, but he finds something quite different.

Tom, are you still there?

 _I see that you finally recalled that I exist. I thought I would die of boredom here - remembering the same classes time and time again is not_ that _funny..._

Oh, sorry, I didn't know that you _can_ get bored...

_It's nothing - no one  had cared that I was bored for forty years. Better tell me how much time passed since our last meeting. You seem to be slightly older._

How do you know? I thought that memories are... dependent; that they exist only when someone brings them back.

_It's not that easy, Harry. I'd say I'm pretty alive._

If you say so... It's 25th June 1995 today.

_So you've forgotten about me for over two years? I guess I should feel offended._

Please don't. I need you.

_That sounds pretty interesting. Why do you need?_

I have... problems.

_What kind of problems? Perhaps I will be able to help you._

I wonder how a  _memory_  can help me...

_Do not underestimate me. Maybe I'm a memory of a powerful wizard?_

Tom, you never fail to amuse me!

_Glad to help. But back to your problems - what's bothering you? I feel that you are depressed and I see death in you. What happened?_

Yesterday... Tom, I just can't. He killed him and then... It was horrible. I couldn't do anything. He tied me to a grave. I saw him putting something in a cauldron and then this voice...

_Harry, what you say, is completely incomprehensible. Could you start over? I cannot help you if I don't know what happened._

I can't talk about it...

_Then show me your memories._

But it's impossible, right? How can I show a memory to another _memory?_

_It's pretty simple. But it doesn't change the fact that your ignorance in matters of studying begins to worry me. What were you doing for the past two years? Because you certainly weren't taking much interest in your classes._

Let's think... Once the Slytherin's heir disappeared in unexplained circumstances, I could safely take my exams. Meantime I freed Dobby the house elf, and I made Lucius Malfoy my even greater enemy - of course, he already hated me, but after this incident he got thirsty for my blood... There's been only a month of vacation, and by chance I learned that my life is in danger again, this time because of a serial murderer, Sirius Black, who was the first convict to escape from Azkaban. Since the travel in Hogwarts express I was constantly bothered by dementors who had more influence on me than on other students. Once again, I became a sensation for the school, and a cause of the Slytherins jokes. Did I mention that I inflated my uncle's sister, so I couldn't go to Hogsmead? Of course, I couldn't go  _legally_. With the Marauder's Map I got from Fred and George I was able to use the secret passage. Unfortunately, during one visit in the village I've accidentally overheard that Sirius Black had betrayed my parents, and in addition he was my godfather. I wanted to kill him. My friends were another nuisance, because they were arguing the whole time about their cat and rat. Then I lost my beloved broom and they demolished the new one, because they thought that it was cursed to kill me. Hagrid was involved in a scandal with his hippogriff, and I worried about this issue too. On the day of execution I was at Hagrid's house with Ron and Hermione, trying to comfort him, but I didn't expect what will happen later... First, we found Scabbers, Ron's rat. Then there was this big black dog and he grabbed Ron and dragged him to the Shrieking Shack. The Whomping Willow nearly killed me. It turned out that the dog is an animagus, Sirius Black. What's more, it was revealed that it was not him that betrayed my parents, but Petter Petigrew who hid for years in the form of a rat. Of course, Snape tried to spoil everything, but he didn't succeed. Or so I thought then - Sirius offered me to live with him and for those few minutes I was the happiest boy in the world. But then everything went wrong: it was full moon, Lupin wanted to attack us in his werewolf form, Snape saved me and Wormtail escaped... They wanted to convict Sirius with a dementor's kiss, but I went back in time with Hermione and saved him and Buckbeak. Now Sirius has to hide, but at least I know that he's fine... And then I started to my fourth year at Hogwarts. I never thought that something like this will happen to me, and now that evening seems so far away... I was elected as the fourth representative in the Triwizard Tournament, even though I was too young and I didn't volunteer. I couldn't back off, which led to taking a fight with a dragon, finding a way to endure underwater for an hour, when I almost drowned, then Cho didn't accept my invitation to the yule ball, and then  _it_ happened.

_I understand that you mean those events that you don't want to talk about?_

Yes, you're right.

_Well, I no longer wonder that the state of your knowledge is not satisfying - your life is full of events more interesting than studying. Maybe I can even forgive you that you forgot about me for so long. But there is one thing I cannot understand. Why are you telling me about all of this right now? Previously you didn't need me, though so much was happening._

It's just _too much_  for me now, Tom. I can't deal with it myself. Ron and Hermione keep saying me all the time that it wasn't my fault, but I know that's not true. If I haven't told him to grab the cup at the same time, it would have never happened!

_What cup do you mean? You've won the tournament?_

Tom, are you listening to me at all?

_Of course I listen to you, Harry._

Don't you think that there are more important things nom than me winning the tournament?

_Honestly I don't know what I should be so concern about, because you still haven't told me what had happened. I am enormously intelligent, but I'm not a seer yet. How can I know what had happened?_

Do you really think I can just show it to you?

_Of course. It's easy._

...

_Harry felt a strange tightness in his stomach, as if he was using a portkey or teleporting. He hated this unpleasant sensation. However, his terror reached an appogeum when he realized what he's seeing - the gloomy cemetery looking just as he remembered it. A dark figure emerged from the fog slowly - Harry saw a big cauldron, a few tombstones, and an outline of a manor in the distance. He almost cried in terror when he saw Wormtail appearing as if out of nowhere, but then something strange happened - he felt that someone holds his arm and saves him from falling on the cold ground._

_He turned around and was surprised to discover that he was standing face to face with a pale young man with dark curls and gray eyes. His face was serious, even worried._

_"Tom?"  Harry asked, although he didn't know who else could this boy be._

_The boy nodded in silence and stared at Harry's with an inscrutable gaze. The boy seemed oddly concerned and looked around the cemetery with wild eyes. Harry noticed that Riddle is dressed in green Slytherin robes and for a moment he couldn't believe that someone from this house can be so nice and helpful. He even wanted to say it out loud, when Tom pointed towards the cauldron:_

_"Something is happening there."_

_Indeed, a few moments later Wormtail appeared on the scene with a strange bundle. Harry felt a cold shiver run down my spine. If only he could kill him now._

_Kill? He couldn't even move now, let alone kill anyone..._

_Somewhere behind him he heard a dull roar and saw himself with a cup in his hand. Cedric stood beside still alive._

_Harry felt a sudden helplessness and needed immediate support of a tomb, so as not to lose balance. Tom probably didn't notice, because he was mesmerized by Peter, who took out his wand and after the command "Kill the spare", uttered by a high cold voice, casted the deadly curse._

_Harry couldn't stop his tears. He looked at the limp Cedric's body, slowly falling to the ground and wondered how he could let this happen. If he did something, Diggory would be still alive. Harry dared not to approach the body. He stood still close to Tom, who, seeing Harry's tears, grabbed his hand and moved closer. He said nothing, but Harry felt his support and he felt a little better._

_He looked at himself from over a dozen hours ago and couldn't believe that only so little time had passed. He saw Wormtail magical ropes attach him to the grave._

_This grave... Some persistent and disturbing thought came into his mind. Something was wrong. He didn't understand at first what disturbed him so much. He didn't have time to think about it, because Peter pulled an ugly little body out of his bundles and threw it into the boiler. Harry remembered the pain in his shoulder, seeing Wormtail cut it and hissed. He didn't notice that Tom turned deadly pale, seeing as Pettigrew calls a bone from under ground._

_And then it happened - Harry saw Voldemort's dark scary figure with his eyes red as blood. He heard his cold voice, but he didn't understand any words. He still didn't understand how this all could happen. Voldemort was supposed to be dead. How can a man who doesn't live be reborn so suddenly and even more powerful than before? It didn't make any sense._

_And suddenly one word which he heard from his mortal enemy, brought him back to earth._

_Riddle._

_Harry looked at Voldemort, and then at himself. And then he saw it. The tomb, which was tied to. That surname. Riddle. Tom Riddle._

_But didn't Voldemort just tell his that Riddle was his father? No, it's impossible. Because then Tom would be..._

_Harry looked at his companion and noticed his pallor. He realized at once that he was was right and lost the ground under his feet. Darkness enveloped him._


	4. St. George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar room and encounters his mortal enemy once more .

_Harry felt that he had a headache. However, he didn't know why. He didn't recall playing quidditch or doing anything dangerous. After a moment he felt a twinge of pain in his left leg and was completely disoriented. What happened to him?_

_He heard a movement nearby an so he decided to open his eyes. With a surprise he discovered that he wasn't in the Gryffindor dormitory, but in some unidentified room plunged in darkness. He raised himself on one elbow and saw a window through the thin curtains. He thought it must be very late, because it was completely dark outside. How long has he been sleeping? And where was he now? He glanced at the dark blue walls and didn't recognize any of paintings hanging on the walls. Moreover, he saw a huge wardrobe with equally large mirror standing in the corner and some old-fashioned bookshelves. In fact, books were everywhere in the room. Harry felt as if he was in a place Hermione would admire._  
  
_He was about to get out of bed and look closer at this unknown room, when he located the source of the sound that had woken him up._

_Right by the window, in the silver light of stars, stood a man. Harry was horrified at the sight. What was this guy doing in his bedroom? Oh, well, maybe it wasn't his bedroom, but he didn't understand why he was in one room with a stranger, it was late at night, and he remembered nothing from last few hours. His mind offered him various bad ideas - maybe he has been kidnapped? Maybe this guy was a murderer or something?_

_He didn't have time to consider other possibilities, because the man (or rather boy, as he seemed pretty young after looking closer) turned in his direction, and Harry recognized him. Well, maybe not quite recognize him, but he had a vague impression that they had met before. The boy smiled at him encouragingly, but somewhat timidly._  
  
_“I'm glad you woke up.”_  
  
_That voice... Where had he heard it before?_  
  
_“Do we know each other?,” he asked and tried to disentangle himself from the sheets. The result was rather poor, because the blanket tangled around his legs and his headache was now even worse._

_“Don't get up so quickly,” said the stranger and he found himself next to Harry in two steps. He put his hand gently on his shoulder and stopped him from moving. Harry didn't know why this movement startled him. Who was this guy? They have met, he was sure. But recollecting anything from before his sleep was so hard..._

_“Where I am? And what happened? Did I have an accident? My leg hurts terribly...” said Harry in an exhausted tone and the stranger looked at him with concern._

_"You... you don't remember anything?”_  
  
_“And what should I remember?,” said Harry angrily. He hated such stupid questions. "Can't you just tell me where we are?”_  
  
_“Oh, of course...” the stranger seemed confused. “We're in my house, or at least I think so.”_  
  
_“You think so? What do you mean?” Harry was a bit annoyed with this bizarre conversation._  
  
_“Well, when I was here for the last time, everything looked a little bit different... The house probably adapted to you.”_  
  
_Harry looked at the boy like at a madman. What did he say? And why was he staring at him?_  
  
_To divert this freak's attention, Harry pointed to a picture next to him and asked:_  
  
_“What is it? Quite interesting picture for a bedroom...”_  
  
_The painting showed sort of a dragon with two heads. On the animal sat a man who was fighting with it and in the background there was a strangely deformed woman. The whole thing was quite macabre, as Harry assessed with a quick look._  
  
_“It's one of the things that surprised me...” replied the boy, somewhat relieved with the change of subject. “Previously, there was no such painting here. I've seen it before, but never thought that it will appear in my bedroom one day.”_  
  
_“And what does it represent?” Harry asked innocently though his thoughts went toward the door. How could he get away?_  
  
_“It's St. George fighting the dragon,” replied the boy, looking thoughtfully at the picture. “I have no idea why it came here.”_  
  
_“Who was this George?” Harry hoped that the stranger didn't notice that he was trying to get out the blanket again. Maybe this time he'd succeed._  
  
_Fortunately the stranger was too interested in the painting to pay attention to Harry._  
  
_“George was a knight. A village was tormented by a dragon. Every day people offered a sheep  to the dragon, and when there were no more sheep, they had to give him one of the girls instead. The victim was chosen by drawing lots. One day the princess was chosen. Her father begged for her life, but the dragon wouldn't listen to him. She had been offered as a prey, but then St. George appeared. He defeated the dragon and rescued the princess... What are you doing, Harry?”_  
  
_Harry stopped in his tracks. He managed to get out of bed already and now he was trying to put his shoes on – he hasn't seen his clothes anywhere, but he came to the conclusion that his shoes and pajamas have to be enough to escape._

_“I'm already late,” said Harry and he moved quickly toward the door. He didn't foresee that his untied laces can make it harder and after a second he was laying on the floor, rubbing his forehead with a groan._

_..._

_"It wasn't too wise," said the elder boy as he gave Harry his hand. Now he was standing face to face with the stranger, who was unknown and familiar at the same time. He looked at his gray eyes and wondered where he saw them for the first time?_

_It was dark then, he thought suddenly. It was even darker than in this room and there were no stars in the sky._  
  
_He was holding my hand then, but why?_  
  
_Who are you? Harry was wondering, looking at the handsom, yet unreadable facial expression._  
  
_The other boy probably noticed Harry's thoughtfulness, as he asked:_  
  
_"Is something bothering you, my dear?"_  
  
_Damn!_  
  
_Harry suddenly jumped away, which made him hit the back of the night table and crashing an amber lamp standing on it. He survived another close encounter with the floor._  
  
_"What happened?," asked the stranger, who wasn't much of a stranger now. He tried to approach Harry, but the boy shouted:_  
  
_"Stay away!" There were both anger and panic in his voice. "I know who you are!"_

_A grimace appeared on the elder boy's face. Harry suddenly felt that he's in danger._

_"Do you really think you can escape from here?"_  
  
_"It's not happening. It's only in my head. You don't exist!"_  
  
_"The fact that this is happening in your head doesn't mean that I don't exist," Tom Riddle replied with an impish smile, and Harry couldn't help thinking that his mortal enemy once looked like an angel and even had a sense of humor._

...

"Harry, do you hear me?," a pleasant voice came to him from the darkness.

He opened his eyes and recognized the red canopy above his head. He sighed with relief. _It was only a dream. I have never met Tom Riddle, because he simply doesn't exist._  
  
_Are you completely sure?_ , asked a mocking voice in his head, but Harry ignored the provocation. He had other problems now.  
  
He saw that Hermione was looking at him with concern and recalled a stranger looking at him in a similar way. Why was he staring at him like that? After all they were enemies... Enemies doesn't look at each other this way. Enemies should throw deadly curses upon themselves or pretend to fight, rather than help each other.  
  
_But he helped you. Or at least tried to. Maybe you should have been nicer?_ asked the same voice Harry's head, but the boy replied quickly:

_This is Voldemort. No, just a memory of Voldemort. It is not worth the worry._  
  
He prefered to things his usual way - forgotting about this strange event, the conversation with Riddle and his visit to the cemetery, but it wasn't as easy as he would like it to be...  
  
The next day brought him only new concern. Students and some parents he passed by in the corridors were looking at him suspiciously. He had to endure their cold gaze. He felt that some of them blamed him for Cedric's death, and most didn't believe in what he said about Voldemort's return. He couldn't understand why people were so stupid. Also, the minister didn't believe in his story, which put him into an even worse situation. He also pitied Dumbledore, who stood at his side, even though it would probably cost him much. Harry had no strength at all. In addition, he passed Cho Chang on the stairs a few times and couldn't stand her gaze – it was breaking his heart. Ron and Hermione also weren't too helpful – all they were able to do was reasuring him that everything will be all right, but he knew they weren't right. He would prefer if someone had listened to him and tried to understand. At times he began to regret having escaped from Voldemort's diary - at least it was a relatively calm place.  Of course apart from it being some Dark Lord's haunted memory.  
  
Sometimes Harry was able to caught himself looking at his trunk. Riddle's diary was lying on the very bottom and he put it out several times already trying to throw it away, but something was always stopping him. Probably he felt some remorse, when dealing with Riddle. Maybe he wasn't Voldemort in the memory, but one day he became Voldemort. How could he look into Dumbledore's eyes knowing that he's secretly maintaining contacts with the Dark Lord? Sometimes Harry tried to explain himself, that he could take advantage of this strange memory, he could get to know Voldemort's weaknesses, but he didn't believe in it. Firstly, he doubted that Tom would tell him anything after his last spectacular disappearance. In addition, Riddle wasn't probably the type of person who shares his secrets with everyone. He would have to gain his trust first, and this would require some closeness, maybe even friendship.

He wasn't that good at keeping in touch either. And looking at Cedric's case he came to a sad conclusion – he was bringing bad luck, even death, upon everyone he knew.  
  
With or without Riddle Harry was still struggling these days. His life was an agony. He would gladly surrendered and disappeared forever, but he knew that he couldn't do that. He was, after all, The Bloody Boy Who Lived and not The Boy Who Died Because He Was Tired Of Living. Hours flowed between his fingers and when after a few days he had to pack up and prepare to return to the Muggle world, he felt as if not an hour had passed since his return from the cementary.  
  
Packing his Invisibily Cloack and the Maruder's Map, Harry looked casually at the diary. It was still lying on the bottom of his trunk. Harry glanced at it for a moment with hesitation, but eventually he held out his hand. Did he have anything else to lose?

...

Hello!

Are you there?

Hello, is anyone there?  
  
Oh, well... I'm sorry I yelled at you.  
  
Really, I'm sorry...  
  
Do you think you can just stop talking to me like that?  
  
I'll shut you up in this trunk for the next forty years!  
  
I'm not kidding.  
  
Why haven't you tell me who you are? Maybe everything would work out differently if I knew.  
  
Try to understand, I was slightly shocked when it turned out that you're _him_.  
  
Ok, well - you're not  _him_. Or at least I think so...  
  
What am I doing? I'm talking to some memory. In addition, the memory of Voldemort. Another story like and I'll end in St. Mungo for sure. But it wouldn't be that bad, I suppose.  
  
I offended a memory. I wasn't aware it's possible.  
  
Please, Tom, don't do this to me...  
  
I'm really sick of you!  
  
Why are you doing this to me?!  
  
Tom, I need you!

_At your services, Harry. As usual. Oddly enough, usually you talk to me when you need something. What do you want this time? Should I help you with your homework? Maybe there's a basilisk I can kill? Nothing difficult at all. Well unless you want me to kill Voldemort, but it may be somehow problematic, because it just happens that I am only his memory!_

Are you mad at me?  
  
_No, I just sometimes like to shout at people._  
  
Tom, I'm sorry, really.  
  
_Isn't it ironic? Harry Potter apologizing the memory of the Dark Lord._  
  
You're not him, Tom.  
  
_That's what you think. How can you know who I am?_  
  
You tried to help me. He wouldn't do that.  
  
_Maybe I just want to use you?_  
  
I don't believe it.  
  
_You've completely lost your mind._  
  
And why do you think so?  
  
_You are mentally unstable. Two weeks ago you ran away from me, because you were so sure I'm Voldemort, although I only tried to help, and now when I say that I am him, you don't want to believe me._  
  
It really doesn't sound well for me, right?  
  
_What do you want?_  
  
Don't leave me.

_You do like those melodramatic chats, don't you?_

Still angry?  
  
_Who said that I'm angry?_  
  
Tom, don't leave me all alone, all right?  
  
_If you don't leave me._  
  
So you'll always be with me from now on?  
  
_Maybe I should also swear my marital fidelity and honesty, and that I won't leave you till death parts us?_  
  
Could you?  
  
Tom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos! :)


	5. The Hag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umbridge's in the neighbourhood and Tom gets wild.

You won't guess what happened!

_I don't even try..._  
  
Well, I don't have to tell you, if you're not interested!  
  
 _Don't fret so hastily. Just kidding. I'm not sure what should I expect. If some dementors attacked you again or you were eavesdropping on Order's meeting once more, I'm not really interested._  
  
You're jealous, because nothing interesting happens to _you_.  
  
 _Well, that's something new. From what I remember I'm just a memory. A memory at your service to be exact._  
  
Don't be so cynical. If not for my good will, someone from the Order would destroy you a long time ago.  
  
 _If not for my help, remnants of your long lost mind would be gone... Well, but what happened?_  
  
Remember what I told you about our new teacher?  
  
 _Dolores Umbridge, right?_  
  
Yes. During our first lesson she told us to hide our wands. Everyone was a little surprised, because this year we'll be taking our OWLs and we have to exercise, right? And if you could only see our books – they're probably from Middle Ages!  
  
 _What's your point? I guess you're not going to tell me about your plans to reform the education system?_  
  
I was already coming to my point. During this lesson, a discussion started – everyone was aking about practical use of defensive spells. Not only for exams, but for the future – after all Voldemort has returned. I said it aloud... and got grounded for a week.  
  
 _Still, it isn't something unusual. Since Umbridge works for the Ministry, it's pretty obvious that she pretends that Voldemort is dead._

You're so easily irritated lately, Tom. I was trying to tell what punishment she ordered for me.

_Probably some writing?_  
  
You're almost right.  
  
 _What do you mean?_  
  
I had to rewrite the sentence "I will not tell lies".  
  
 _How many times?_  
  
Until it was imprinted on my skin.  
  
 _What?!_  
  
She used a magical quill. I was writing with my own blood.  
  
 _But you told someone about it, didn't you?_  
  
You act just like Hermione.  
  
 _So you didn't..._  
  
I didn't, because I don't want anyone to interfere. This is my personal war.  
  
 _This doesn't change the fact that this woman is a monster._  
  
Look who's talking.  
  
 _I thought we were already past this?_  
  
Yes, sorry. Besides, I have some other news for you. Yesterday Ron received a letter from his older brother, Percy, the one who's on the same side as the Ministry. Percy wrote that Ron shouldn't talk with me, because I'm now _undesirable_. He even suggested that I may be slightly _unbalanced_.  
  
 _I knew it long ago._  
  
Very funny. But today, Umbridge was appointed the Grand Inquisitor of Hogwarts. She may now visit other teachers and order new regulations regarding school life.  
  
 _It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts._  
  
Hermione said the same thing.  
  
 _I never thought it'll come to this..._  
  
There's something else...  
  
 _Yes?_  
  
Ron and Hermione are trying to persuade me to organize secret Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching group for other students.  
  
 _Interesting idea._  
  
I'm not so sure ...  
  
 _Why? After all, you will be able to prepare for your exams, and besides, you can play on Umbridge's nose by doing so, which can be fun._  
  
And illegal.  
  
 _Since when do you care about the law? From what I recall breaking school rules was never especially difficult for you._

From what _I_ recall, you should help me and not let me get into even bigger troubles.

_Where's your wild side?_  
  
It appears that you have _too much_ of it.  
  
 _If you were bored like me, you'd be acting just the same._  
  
If you were me, you would have enough attractions without an illegal student organization.

...

“Did you hear the big news?,” Ron asked, trying to stop laughing.  
  
Harry was sitting in the library doing his Herbology homework, which should be ready for the afternoon class. Because of Umbridge's detention he was way behing with school work. He hoped that Ron really had something important to tell him.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“Someone broke into Umbridge's office and cursed her kittens,” Ron sank into the nearest chair, still shaking with laughter.  
  
“What?!” Harry couldn't help screaming. “Who could be crazy enough to do something like that?”  
  
“You haven't heard the best part yet,” Ron continued. “That someone made all her terrible pink kittens meow horribly each time Umbridge enters her office. Can you imagine?”  
  
Harry couldn't help smiling a little – apparently someone disliked Umbridge at least as much as he did, but that that someone was pretty _insane_. Probably Umbridge will find him soon and punish accordingly...  
  
“Who did it? Fred and George?” Harry asked, already feeling compassion for the twins. A whole month of writing with the magical quill was certainly waiting for whoever did it.  
  
“No, it's not them,” said Ron. “Frankly, even they were surprised that someone dared to do something like that. After all that Umbridge is unpredictable... Besides, I'm not sure whether a student could do it...”  
  
“What do you mean?” Harry was surprised.  
  
“You see, no one can disenchant those cats.”  
  
“Maybe the teachers simply don't want to help her?” Harry suggested.  
  
“That's what I thought,” the other boy said, stretching his head thoughtfully, “until I heard Flitwick saying Dumbledore on the fourth floor, that he doesn't know what spell was used, and that finding something to put the spell away will take him some time...”  
  
“It's really interesting.” Harry wondered who could be the secret enemy of Umbridge. Probably he invented this spell himeself, because Flitwick couldn't simply take it off... Although he didn't know who this mysterious ally was (because the enemies of my enemies are my friends), he felt sympathy for him.

…

Tom, do you know anything about the Draught of Peace?  
  
 _Do I look like an encyclopedia to you? Check in the library._  
  
It's past midnight, Tom.  
  
 _You could have started doing your homewark earlier._  
  
Well, you know that I had Dumbledore's Army meeting and quidittch training to attend. Besides, Umbridge is watching my every step - I don't know why, but she's thinking I cursed her cats... And I'm nearly sure she knows there is a secret organisations in the school.  
  
 _You should have been expecting this._  
  
Why won't you help me?  
  
 _I don't like your attitude towards education._  
  
Tom, please...  
  
 _Well, all right... The Draught of Peace... It relieves anxiety and agitation. The ingredients are powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills and powdered unicorn horn. It should be a turquoise blue when finished. Making a mistake can have drastic consequences, because adding too much of the ingredients will put the drinker into a deep — and possibly irreversible — sleep. Is it enough?_  
  
It has to be. Thanks, you saved my life. At least for now, Snape's probably already preparing another fascinating task for the next lesson. Tom?  
  
 _Yes?_  
  
Have I already told you that you're wonderful?  
  
 _A few times, but I have nothing against you repeating it once more._  
  
You're awful.  
  
 _Why no longer wonderful?_  
  
I'm glad that I didn't drown you.  
  
 _You had such an intention?_  
  
When I found out who you are, I wanted to throw you into the lake. Luckily I didn't.  
  
 _It wouldn't kill me, but what stopped you?_  
  
I couldn't. I felt that I need you, despite everything.  
  
 _Again, this melodrama._  
  
Again, this cynicism.  
  
 _So you need me?_  
  
Of course. Besides, there's something else, like if there was something between us, but I cannot explain it. Soul mates?  
  
 _It's probably not the best term._  
  
You know something, don't you?  
  
Tom?  
  
I hate when you do it!


	6. Champagne with the enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's love life is a failure and Tom is himself as usual.

Tom!

Tom, where are you?!

_Don't shout, it's the middle of the night. What happened?_

Mr. Weasley... They took him to the hospital now, but he was looking terrible. I don't know how it happened...

_Could you be more specific for once?_

Tom, I attacked him!

_But you were sleeping in your bed, right?_

Yes, but...

_And I suppose that that Weasley wasn't there?_

Of course he wasn't there, but...  
_  
In this case, it is unlikely that you attacked him, right?_

Yes, but...

_But what?_

I... I was the  _snake_!

_What do you mean, a snake? Harry, are you certain it wasn't a dream?_

It was a dream, but one of those I had before. Dreams about  _him_.

_About me?_

You'd like.

_Don't be so touchy. Tell me more about this dream._

I saw everything from the perspective of a snake. Mr. Weasley sat in a long dark hallway, he was probably on guard looking after that "weapon". And then there was a snake...  _I_... attacked Mr. Weasley as that snake. There was blood everywhere... I woke up screaming and no one wanted to believe me, just like you. Fortunately, Dumbledore didn't ask any questions. To be honest we haven't spoken even once this year. He immediately organized some help for Mr. Weasley and moved me, Ron, Ginny and the twins to Grimmauld Place. We'll stay here for Christmas.

_It's quite interesting, that dream of yours. I've been suspecting that there is some connection between you and Voldemort._

As between you and me, right?

_Yes, I think so._

And you know what it is?

_I suspect._

What?

_Nothing special. Is that everything you wanted to tell me? I think you should get some sleep._

I don't want to sleep.

_But you must be tired._

I'm afraid.

_Why?_

It may happen again. What if I attack Ron in his sleep? Maybe I no longer have control over my own body? Maybe I'm posessed?

_There are some ways of defence. Dumbledore will probably consider such a possibility._

What do you mean?

_Occlumency._

Occlu-what?

_Occlumency is a way to defend oneself against legilimency, a mental attack of another wizard._

It's probably terribly hard to understand...

_It's not easy, but certainly useful. Besides, you should want to know it not only because of these dreams._

What are you talking about?

_Don't you think that Dumbledore or other members of the Order would be interested in your close realationship with Voldemort's memory?_

They can see it in my mind?

_Of course. And probably they can do it pretty easily, taking into account that usually you're thinking awfully loud... By the way, why were you silent for so long? I was concerned._

Well, you know, I had Dumbledore's Army meeting.

_And?_

And what?

_Usually you tell me extensive stories about these trainings and today you are quiet, so I suspect something happened._

Well, if you say so...

_Yes?_

I kissed Cho.

_What?! And you had no intention to tell me?_

Don't be so surprised. I knew that you would make an affair of this.

_I? Affair? Nothing of that sort! Tell me, how was it?_

Wet.

_I don't understand..._

Cho... She was crying.

_You're so bad at kissing?_

Shut up. It has nothing to do with that.

_I cannot express my opinion in this matter._

What do you mean?

_Well, I never kissed you, so I can't objectively determine whether the girl was crying, because you were so hopeless._

You're kidding, right?

_Maybe._

...

Harry opened his eyes, although he didn't have the slightest desire to get out of his bed. He knew he should go eat some breakfast, a whole day in Hogsmeade was ahead. A day with Cho. Well, he had to meet Hermione too, but it didn't matter.

But what, if Tom was right? Maybe his kissing skills were that bad? A slight shiver of panic ran down his spine.

He clenched his fists in rage.  _Stupid diary. What can he know about kissing?_

He jumped out of bed right away and after twenty minutes he was standing in the courtyard, waiting for Cho. He even stopped in the Great Hall to pick up a toast and his humor has improved somewhat.

Then he saw a girl coming down the stairs and smiled radiantly. Cho was really pretty.

But when she stood next to him, he felt that it may be a terrible mistake. Panic returned with a doubled force. What was he thinking, inviting her to Hogsmead?

They had an awkward conversation on the way and Harry didn't know what to do. Apparently, not only kis kisses were terrible.

"Maybe we can go to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop? It's a nice place," Cho proposed. "I was there with..." Her voice trembled and Harry guessed why.

Will he always have to compete with a ghost of a deceased lover?

Madam Puddifoot's Tea Room has proven to be very specific place. The windows were covered in steam and the tables and chairs were all occupied by teenagers holding hands or kissing over cups of tea and coffee. A bell over the door announced new customers in a tuneful tinkle; the round tables were decorated with lacy napkins and porcelain sugar bowls.  
On Valentine's Day, the tea shop was decorated with golden cherubs hovering over each table, occasionally throwing pink confetti over the people sitting below.

Harry felt a spasm in his stomach. He would really prefer a butterbeer at the Three Broomstics.

Cho took place at a small round table and ordered a coffee.

_This is a complete failure,_  Harry thought.

Time seemed to stand still and Harry didn't know what he should do. He tried to be funny, but nothing seemed to make Cho laugh. Therefore he decided to keep quiet and hold Cho's hand, but it also didn't work. Cho was openly comparing him with Cedriciem all the time or at least he felt she was doing it. In the end he said:

"Can we go now? I've made an appointment with Hermione."

He wasn't expecting what happened after these words. Cho jumped up from her chair and yelled at him. Harry picked only some of her words, more or less sophisticated accusations, such as him being a "heartless asshole." He saw that some customers were giving him looks full of curiousity and amusemnt. He was burning with shame.

Dating wasn't his strongest point.

...

My love life is a complete failure.

_Your date wasn't successfull?_

It was a  _tragedy_.

_I won't say I didn't expect it._

I can't stand you.

_You're welcome._

Why can't I simply get along with people?

_Well, it seems you're getting along with me. Are you suggesting I'm not a human being?_

You don't count in.

_Thank you for your kind words._

Tom, what should I do?

_With what? Your date? Maybe Cho will speak with you again, if you apologize?_

For what? I didn't do anything wrong...

_Of course you didn't, but apologizing usually works with girls._

And how would  _you_  know that? Probably not from experience.

_If you want to know, no girl was crying when I was kissing her._

I'd like to see it.

_Are you sure you know what you're asking for?_

...

_"How did I end up here?" Harry asked, confused._

_He stood in the middle of the room he saw before. Nothing had changed except for a small table and two chairs, which appeared near the window. Tom Riddle was sitting in one of them. He looked as usual, that is divine._

_"Nice to see you again at my place," he greeted Harry and held out his hand, pointing to the second chair. "I hope this time you won't escape in such a haste."_

_Harry took his place, even though he felt a little strange. He was sitting in front of a piece of Voldemort's soul after all. He wouldn't admit this was a pretty nice company._

_On the table there were two glasses and a dusty bottle._

_"Heidsiec, 1907. We must celebrate this meeting properly," Tom said with a smile._

_"I'm underage," Harry remarked shyly, but the host didn't pay attention to his words._

_"Liquid gold. Bringing it here cost me a lot of trouble, so don't refuse." Tom's eyes sparkled with joy and Harry couldn't understand how someone with such eyes became the Dark Lord._

_"It's just a memory. How can we drink anything?"_

_"Well, it's not an ordinary memory," said Tom, handing him a glass._

_"What do you mean?" Harry asked and felt a slight uneasiness._

_"It's a long story. Maybe someday I'll tell it to you."_

_"Why do I tell you everything and you tell me only what you want to?"_

_Tom ignored this question, as it was in his habit, which Harry already knew. They drank champagne in a momentary silence and Harry came to the conclusion that the drink was pretty good. As the sun closed in a bottle. Tom sat opposite and watched him carefully, which worried Harry a little. Why was he always staring at him in this weird way?_

_He drank the rest of his champagne and asked for more. Tom was clearly amused by his behavior, but he poured more of the golden liquid into his glass. After several minutes, Harry began to feel its effects and he somehow relaxed._

_"Why did you bring me here?" he asked nonchalantly, seating himself comfortably in the chair. The navy blue plush was tickling his neck._

_"Because you asked for it," Tom answered lightly, gracefully sipping his champagne._

_"I didn't ask for anything," Harry replied with persistence of a small child._

_"Yes, you did." Riddle put down his glass on the table and leant toward the boy. Harry thought that maybe Tom wanted to tell him a secret of some kind and he approached the other boy. Champagne bubbles were already swirling in his head, so it didn't bother him that there were no more than five centimeters between him and his enemy's memory._

_"What is it that I asked for?" Harry began, looking in Tom Riddle's gray eyes, now shining a little frantic._

I shouldn't be so close _, spoke a last voice of reason somewhere in Harry's head, but it was too late._

_Something brushed against Harry's mouth, something warm and soft. Tom pressed a hesitant kiss on his trembling lips._

_Are you crazy? A part of Harry wanted to punch Riddle in the face, but the other part, now slightly dazed champagne, had nothing against what was happening. On the bright side, Tom at least wasn't crying kissing him._

_For some absurd reason, Harry's limbs appeared to agree with Tom's actions; his arms wrapped themselves around Tom's back eagerly. The kiss felt terrifying, but somehow it was the sweetest thing he had ever felt._

_Suddenly, when Harry started to really like it, Tom stepped out and said:_

_"You still have much to learn."_

_Harry looked at him stupidly._

_"What?"_

_"You doubted me," Tom said. "I couldn't afford to lose my honor."_

_"What?!" Harry asked again, his voice trembling with rage. "What was this all about?"_

_Tom looked at him with a mixture of amusement and triumph in his eyes._

_"You wanted to know whether I can kiss. Now you know."_

_Harry stared at him without saying a word. He was both angry and devastated. Andry, because Riddle obviously played with him. Devastated, because for a moment he thought that this kiss meant something. Apparently Riddle had more of Voldemort in him than he thought._

_"I hate you," Harry hissed coldly. He couldn't afford any further humiliation._

_"That's what you want to believe," he heard Riddle's voice, before it dissapeared into darkness._


	7. Partings and returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is mad, depressed and still bad at kissing.

 

_How could he do this to me?!  
  
Bloody diary! I shouldn't have taken it from that damned bathroom!_  
  
“Harry, watch out!” Hermione squeaked, but it was too late.  
  
Harry was cutting his green Egyptian beetles with such passion that one of them suddenly jumped and flew into the air. Perhaps it would have no consequences, but Professor Snape was just passing by his desk. Unfortunately, to Harry's horror (and Ron's delight) the beetle hit him straight in the eye. Snape hissed in pain and stumbled as if he was drunk. Several students bursted out laughing, but they were cut by Snape's single look after a few seconds, even though a big dark circle started to appear under his eye and he looked like a really angry panda.  
  
“Potter,” he said so icily Harry's blood froze. “What was that supposed do mean?”  
  
“I'm sorry, it was an accident,” the boy replied, his voice trembling, which sounded pretty pathetic.  
  
“An accident? This was probably the hundredth _accident_ in the past three months, Potter.” Snape didn't raise his voice, but he was terrifying nonetheless. Harry thought he would prefer, if the teacher just yelled at him. “Oddly enough, usually _I'm_ your victim.”  
  
“I really didn't want to...” Harry began to explain, but Snape interrupted him, rising him hand.  
  
“Enough. Detention, tonight.”  
  
Harry sighed, but didn't protest. He knew he deserved it. He should be more careful. And he should finally stop thinking about the diary so much. More than three months had already passed since he had that last little chat with Riddle and he felt awfully strange about it. On the one hand, he missed Riddle company so much, but on the other he had no intention to surrender. He won't show his weakness anymore. As for Snape – Harry wasn't surprised he got a detention. After his damned curiosity led him to roaming through memories of his teacher, Snape was treating him even more harshly than usual.  
  
_Perhaps a nice conversation with Riddle would improve your mood,_ an intrusive voice whispered somewhere inside him and Harry began to wonder, if Voldemort himself isn't putting such ideas in his head. Probably he had an easy access to his mind, because it turned out that Occlumency wasn't exactly Harry's strongest point. Honestly his Occlumency was probably as hopeless as his kissing skills...  
  
“Don't worry,” Ron whispered to him and Harry returned to reality. “He won't be worse than Umbridge, right?”  
  
“Thanks, Ron. You really lifted my spirit,” Harry growled in response and stirred his bubbling potion.  
  
He didn't know that he won't attend any detention that day.

  
...

  
I still think that you're heartless creature from hell, but can we talk for a while?  
  
_Of course. What happened this time?_  
  
My godfather is... dead.  
  
Won't you say anything?  
  
_Harry, did I kill him?_  
  
No. He was killed by his own cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.  
  
_I'm glad it wasn't me._  
  
You were there too.  
  
_Where?_  
  
In the Ministry of Magic.  
  
_But this is illogical. For a whole year I was pretending I don't exist._  
  
Apparently you came to the conclusion that it's time to get out of the shadows and destroyed half of the Ministry.  
  
_Harry, you sound so... grimly._  
  
Really?  
  
_Don't do it._  
  
What?  
  
_Don't distant yourself from me. I want to help you._  
  
I know what your help looks like. So no, thanks.  
  
_You're still angry? I didn't think it would upset you so much. Honestly I hoped you would come back after a few days. And you were silent for nearly four months._  
  
I'm still not talking with you.  
  
_And it seemed to me that you just were._  
  
I do it because I have to. Otherwise I'll go insane. Ron and Hermione are so terribly annoying - lingering like ghosts behind my back, as if they were suspecting that I want to do something stupid. Dumbledore is even worse - first he was pretending I don't exist and now he's playing that good nice grandfather suddenly and apologizes for everything. A little too late. If he had taught me that damn Occlumency, Sirius would be still alive! Tom, I'm completely alone now, my life doesn't have a purpose anymore... Everyone seems to see some kind of a savior in me and I am not a hero. I'm just an ordinary boy. I don't have any special skills or talents. And I haven't told you the worst yet.  
  
_What do you mean?_  
  
Voldemort wanted me in the Department of Mysteries, so I could take the prophecy from there.  
  
_What kind of prophecy?_  
  
About me and him. Or maybe about me and you?  
  
_Did you hear it?_  
  
Yes.  
  
_And?_  
  
Neither can live while the other survives.  
  
_So you have to kill him?_  
  
Looks like it. Although it's far more likely that _he_ will kill _me_.  
  
_Don't say that._  
  
Are you completely crazy? How can I fight against Voldemort? I don't even know one percent of the spells that he knows. It's hopeless...  
  
_You got me. I'll help you._  
  
Don't you remember that I'm not talking with you?  
  
_Well, yes. You won't forgive me for the rest of your live? It was just a joke._  
  
It was very easy for you to treat me like a joke. You got me drunk and then used me.

_Got you drunk? You had only two glasses of champagne! And if you don't remember, I'll remind you that you kissed me back!_  
  
That's not true!  
  
_It is true, but you're just afraid to admit it._  
  
I think it's time to end this conversation.  
  
_Well, do what you want. But if you leave now, I won't tell you a secret. A secret about him._  
  
Don't even try to deceive me.  
  
_This will help you defeat him._  
  
And what do you want in return?  
  
_Only your friendship._  
  
That's a pretty high price.  
  
_You know that you need me._  
  
And where did you take this conclusion from, narcissus?  
  
_Only I can understand you._  
  
_What's your decision?_  
  
All right. Tell me what you know.  
  
_Maybe you can come over?_  
  
No, thanks.  
  
_Well, if you don't want to... I think Voldemort split his soul into pieces and hid it in various objects. That's why he didn't die when the Killing Curde backfired at him. To defeat him, you must destroy all the Horcruxes._  
  
How do you know?  
  
_I remember that I planned something like that._  
  
And you know where those Horcruxes are?  
  
_Well, I don't know exactly... But I have some suspicions._  
  
Can you tell me?  
  
_Voldemort probably hid his soul in some valuable items. Our family heirlooms for instance - the ring of my grandfather and mother's locket. I never saw them, but I suspect that finding them wouldn't take me a long time._  
  
What else?  
  
_Perhaps other mementoes of the school founders. With Slytherin's locket I'd probably desire to have some other artifacts._  
  
Gryffindor's sword is still in the school.  
  
_So only Ravenclaw and Huffelpuff remain. I once read about Rovena Ravenclaw's diadem. Perhaps I could find it._  
  
How many more of these Horcruxes?  
  
_I think seven. No, I'm sure of it._  
  
So a locket, a ring, a diadem, and something that belonged to Huffelpuff. What about the remaining three?  
  
_Did you notice something that is with me all the time?_  
  
You mean Voldemort?  
  
_And who are we talking about?_  
  
Well, all right, don't get nervous... I have to think for a moment. Hmm, you are usually accompanied by Nagini. That's a huge snake. Can an animal be a Horcrux too?  
  
_Probably. As for the other two I have some suspicions, but I suppose we have enought to hunt down for now._  
  
_We_? What do you mean?  
  
_You don't think you can find these Horcruxes alone, Harry, do you? It's a very dangerous task. They're probably protected with some powerful spells._  
  
Let me note that you are a _memory_. How are you going to help me?  
  
_Let's say that I will be the brains of this mission. With all due respect, Harry, but sometimes you're so careless..._  
  
Yes, yes, I'm reckless and bad at kissing. When do we start?  
  
_Since you have to go back to the Muggle world for the holidays, we will use this time to get ready. You'll borrow some books from the library and learn a few usefull spells._  
  
I'm not an adult, I can't use magic outside the school.  
  
_It's not a problem. You can always visit me._  
  
Maybe this _is_ a solution... And what happens then?  
  
_Then, when you're ready, we'll start our search. At the beginning we will visit the house of my grandfather, then the cave._  
  
Well, it doesn't sound that bad, right?


	8. The Secret Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco wants to kill everyone, but Harry doesn't care, because Tom goes into his emo-phase.

„Where did you learn this?” Hermione asked with envy, when Harry was able to transform Ron into a baby lion without trying, whilst she was still struggling to make Neville look a little bit more like a frog.  
  
„I've read some books during the summer,” he smiled in response.  
  
Of course it wasn't the _whole_ truth. Sure, he read all their textbooks (not potions - he didn't know that he'll be able to study them) and many other books, which Tom told him to borrow. Honestly, at some point Harry began to regret that he has agreed to this summer training - Riddle was even more demanding than McGonagall and much more peevish than Snape. He never allowed him to let go, demanding perfection and preparation. Of course, Harry was now grateful for that - he had no problems with classes and everything was working for him with the first try. Teachers didn't cease to praise him witch was driving Hermione crazy and made Ron laugh a lot.  
  
“Maybe you should move to Ravenclaw Tower or something?” Ron was joking, now that he has regained his human form and McGonagall awarded Harry with ten points for correct execution of the exercise.  
  
“Everything but Slytherin,” Harry replied, looking at Malfoy, who was sitting by the window and watching him with a murderous look. If one thought about it, Malfoy behaved very strange this year. He was always looking tired and annoyed, and during lessons he was distracted and absent-minded.  
  
Of course, Harry didn't intend to worry about it - he had a lot of more serious troubles on his shoulders. Not only did Tom still provide him with new work to do so that he was better prepared for the Horcruxes-hunt, but Dumbledore decided that Harry should have private lessons with him too. Harry wasn't that _happy_ about it, but Tom told him that such lessons may be quite useful. Although he hated the old headmaster with burning passion, he was able to appreciate his knowledge and skills.Willy-nilly Harry had to deal with all these activities now. Did he already mention that he was the captain of Gryffindor quidditch team too?  
  
What was his surprise when after a long day of classes he went alone to the dormitory and saw a strange figure on his bed.  
  
_Is this possible?_ , he thought and held his breath.  
  
There was no doubt that the person he saw in front of him was Tom Riddle, but the boy looked somehow... strange. Not real?  
  
Only after a while Harry realized what was this difference - after all, Tom was just a memory, not a living man. He had no body. But he didn't look like a ghost either. Harry thought that the most appropriate word would be a _shadow_. But this brought next questions:  
  
“How?”  
  
“Aren't you glad?” Tom replied, smiling slightly. “I thought it would make you happy if we could talk in such a form.”  
  
“Oh, of course, I _am_ glad...” And confused. “But you... surprised me. How did you do this? After all, you're just a _memory_ , right?”  
  
Tom snorted, as if Harry insulted him:  
  
“I can do many things, but apparently you haven't noticed yet. Besides, I'm here, in a sense, on your cost.”  
  
“My cost?”  
  
“Yes, yours,” said Tom, lying on Harry's bed, as if he was at home. It didn't make much impression on Harry - during the holidays he was staying with Riddle long enough to not be surprised with his permissiveness. “I took this form using your magic.”  
  
Harry still looked at him without understanding, perhaps even scared a little, so Tom added:  
  
“There is nothing to fear. You have enough magic to keep me here. And if you'll have enough of me- in what I don't really believe - I can always go back to the diary.”  
  
Harry looked doubtfully at Tom.  
  
“Do other people can also see you?”  
  
“If you want them to.”  
  
Harry felt a slight uneasiness. If others might see Riddle, his situation would be quite difficult. Probably people would think he's insane and send him to St. Mungo's. Or to _Azkaban_.  
  
Harry sat on the bed next to Tom and sighed. Indeed, it was nice talking to his new ally in this familiar environment. He looked at Riddle and held out his hand towards his hair. He always wanted to know whether it is so soft as it looks to be, but never dared to learn it _there_ , in the diary. Here in Gryffindor he was at home and had the right to dictate the rules.  
  
Or so he thought until his hand passed directly _through_ Riddle.  
  
Harry had to have an awfully silly face, because Tom laughed out loud. His laughter echoed in the warm room, which made the whole situation even more absurd to Harry.  
  
“What's so funny?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he felt his cheeks burn. “I just wanted to see if you're really here,” he tried to explain.  
  
“No,” Riddle laughed again. “You wanted to _touch_ my hair.”  
  
“What's so surprising?” Harry knew that he was blushing, and he was angry at himself. What tempted him?  
  
“Nothing, of course,” Tom answered, though his eyes were saying something else.  
  
But after a while his face changed and a grimace of pain, maybe even sadness, run through it and he sat down next to Harry, saying quietly:  
  
“You are so close, yet so far.”

 

...

 

When in the evening they walked together to Dumbledore's office, Riddle seemed a bit more cheerful. Probably because he was trying to annoy Harry. He didn't want Tom to accompany him, he said that it was too dangerous, but Riddle didn't listen.  
  
So when in the beginning Dumbledore asked: "Harry, didn't you bring anybody with you?", he nearly _died_ of stress. Could Dumbledore feel the presence of a memory? Harry couldn't be sure.

He was even more surprised when he heard a familiar voice in his head.  
  
_He sensed me._  
  
_Tom?_  
  
_No, Voldemort, you moron._  
__  
Stop fooling around. And get out of my head!  
  
In response he heard only a giggle.  
  
“Harry, did something happen?” Dumbledore asked in his usual good-natured tone and the boy remembered where he was. He had to be more careful.  
  
“It's nothing, absolutely nothing, Professor. I'm just a little tired today. What happened to your hand, sir?” Harry tried to quickly change the subject.  
  
“That's a pretty long story, Harry. And an interesting one. Maybe someday...”  
  
The boy didn' hear the rest of the sentence, because a wave of emotions so violent went through his mind that he almost lost his breath. He felt anger and hatred, but also fear.  
  
_He knows,Harry._ Riddle seemed devastated.  _He found them._  
  
Harry could understand nothing of this gibberish, but something made him look at the ring on Dumbledore's blackened hand.  
  
“What's this?” he asked, trying to control his restless thoughts.  
  
The headmaster glanced at him curiously and then said:  
  
“Interesting that you asked about this ring, my dear boy.”  
  
_How did he find it?_ Riddle wanted to know.  _How dare he wear my ring? He's not worthy!_  
  
_Shut up,_ Harry tried to silence him, but it didn't seem to have any effect.

Ignoring Riddle's curses he looked at the headmaster. He has seen Dumbledore's kind smile, but his eyes were twinkling somehow dangerously. Or maybe he has just imagined it?  
  
“I decided that you should know something about Tom Riddle, Harry. You must know your enemy before you can defeat him.”  
  
“You mean Voldemort, right?” Harry interrupted, feeling that Tom finally fell silent.  
  
“His real name is Tom Riddle, Harry.” The headmaster looked at his student carefully.  
  
“Maybe Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort are two different people?” Harry tried to explain, but Dumbledore rose his hand:  
  
“You shouldn't think about it this way. Tom had a propensity for violence and brutality even as a child. Naming himself Voldemort didn't change his _nature_.” Dumbledore's voice was unnaturally calm. Harry had never heard such a certainity in his tone. As if the headmaster was blinded by something?  
  
“Today I'll show you my own memory about Tom Riddle. Maybe after seeing it you can understand was I mean.”

 

…

 

Harry was laying in his bed. It was already after midnight, but he couldn't sleep. He was still thinking about what Dumbledore showed him. He had no idea that Riddle's childhood was so _difficult_. Probably even harder than his own.

When he tried to explain to Dumbledore that he felt pity for Tom, the headmaster looked at him with great concern:  
  
“Do you pity your parents' murderer, Harry?”  
  
It wasn't fair to put it this way.  
  
Now he was lyying in his bed turning from side to side. Although he saw that Riddle as a child has been prone to violence, he couldn't consider this child to be _Voldemort_. The young Tom Riddle was simply an unwanted, unloved orphan, but not a murderer.  
  
Unfortunately he couldn't share these insights with said person because Riddle disappeared before they get to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry suspected that Tom didn't return to the diary, he tried to communicate with him that way. He began to worry and started wondering if one can kill a memory?  
  
He was a little surprised that he cares what happens to Tom, but he couldn't help it – they where spending so much time together over the past months.  
  
Suddenly Harry got up from his bed and made the decision. He had to find Tom. Even if he couldn't be _physically_ hurt, Harry felt that Riddle needs his help.  
  
He pulled the Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map out of his trunk. He tried to leave the room as quietly as possible, not to wake anyone. Night walks - even in his case - were something quite unusual. And illegal.  
  
Arry was walking aaimlessly through the corridors for the next few minutes, wondering where he could find Tom. Obviously he couldn't see him on the Marauder's Map, though he was surprised to see Draco Malfoy on it. Perhaps if he had more time and less problems he would check why the Slytherin was wandering around the castle in the middle of the night, but at this moment he couldn't care less.  
  
Passing by one of the windows Harry got an idea. He looked at the lake and meadows steeped in gloom, and suddenly became aware of where he should look for Tom.  
  
He ran down the stairs so fast that the portraits which haven't been sleeping could see his bare feet sticking out from under the Invisibility Cloak.  
  
Outside there was a cold, although it was only September. Harry walked towards one of the gardens and quickly found what he was looking for. Surrounded by overgrown ivy and beautiful autumn roses a door was hidden, which only confirmed his suspicions.  
  
Once he crossed the secret passage, he felt the magic that surrounds this place. It could be easily seen too - in the garden there were flowers that normally would surely wither a long time ago.  
  
Harry looked around and saw Tom in the moonlight. The boy probably hasn't noticed his arrival yes; he was sitting with his head down under one of the old trees.  
  
“Tom,” Harry whispered, approaching his ally immersed deep in thoughts.  
  
Riddle raised his eyes and looked at the Gryffindor student grimly.  
  
“Why have you come?”  
  
Harry didn't expect such a question.  
  
“I thought that something had happened,” he replied. “That you may need help.”  
  
“And how can _you_ help me?” Riddle snorted. “You don't understand anything!”  
  
“I don't understand?” Harry felt anger rising in him. “ _I_ don't understand?” he repeated. “If you don't remember, I'll remind you that not only you had a difficult childhood! Do you think I forget how hungry I sometimes was? How I was afraid when I had to sleep in the dark? How...”  
  
“Harry, but you're not a _murderer_!” Riddle cried out.  
  
The boy looked at him with compassion.  
  
“You're not a murderer, Tom.”  
  
“I killed your parents.”  
  
“ _Voldemort_ did it, not you.”  
  
“I _am_ Voldemort.”  
  
“No, you're _not_ ,” Harry snapped in annoyance and tried to put his hand on Tom's shoulder. Of course it resulted in touching the bark of the tree under which they were sitting.  
  
Riddle smiled slightly, though Harry could have sworn that a moment before he saw traces of tears on his shadowy face.  
  
“We are together at last, though far apart,” Tom said quietly, his gaze wandering towards the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, I'm so glad that you're enjoying this story; even when you leave just a few words it makes me increadibily happy. I still haven't told you what my prompts were back then in 2011:  shadow, heart, midnight, secrets.


	9. In a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is playing in a pantomime and Tom feels insecure about cuddling.

“I hope you won't refuse me this time, Harry,” Slughorn gave his favorite pupil a radiant smile. “Miss Granger is invited too.”

Harry refrained from sighting theatricaly. Slughorn was hunting for him since the beginning of the school year and it seemed that this time he won't be able to escape and have to go to that silly party. Of course, if he was able to, he would make up another excuse , but he has done it so many times already that there was no chance the Potions Master believes him.

“It'll be a pleasure,” Harry replied with a smile and Slughorn was visibly impressed.

The boy quickly ran away and was near the stairs before his teacher could cast another series of compliments at him; compliments he didn't deserve, Harry might add.

_You're in a very good mood today_ , Tom noticed.

_Oh, you know, I had no choice. Besides, I'm even a little grateful to Slughorn – he won the quidditch match because of him. I got Feliv Felicis from him._

_And I thought you won thanks to your extraordinary skill,_ Riddle sneered.

_That too, of course,_ Harry laughed. _But at least Ron believed he could win, it was all he needed._ Harry with satisfaction recalled the look on Ron's face, when he saw a complete and intact bottle of the elixir.

_Where are we going?_  Tom asked after a moment, seeing that they're not going to the library, where to horror of his firends and Hermione's delight Harry was recently spending most of the time.

_I don't know... I don't want to come across Hermione - she's terribly unbearable since Ron began to date Lavender._ Harry wished he didn't have to think about his best friend in such way, but it was unfortunately true.

_And what about you? Didn't you think about dating a girl?_ Tom asked with curiosity, but it seemed to Harry sthat there was something behind this question.

_You know, first things first, I have to save the world_ , Harry said evasively. So many strange things are happening in the school now - Katie attacked by some ancient curse, now Malfoy didn't show up at the match...”

_Don't worry about Malfoy, he won't do you any harm,_ Tom said it with such certainty as if he knew what Malfoy was up to.

_In that case, who is hunting for?_ Harry asked, but didn't get any answers.

  
...

 

Christmas had come faster than Harry expected. Time passed quickly between the onslaught of his homework, training, observing Malfoy (Harry was sure that he was up to something) and lessons with Tom. Yes, the lessons were still taking place, because Riddle claimed that the level of education at Hogwarts fell terribly low, and besides, it was in no way preparing Harry to face Voldemort. Sometimes Harry had to admit Tom was right – frankly, he doubted that he will ever get the chance to prepare a portion of the Draught of Living Death for Voldemort or to transform him in, let's say, a dolphin. Only lessons with Dumbledore were useful - although Harry still couldn't convince the headmaster that Tom Riddle is not Voldemort, it was interesting to learn so much about his past. Harry knew that Tom would never tell him everything that Dumbledore showed him in the memories.

But there was one fundamental problem - lessons with Tom had to take place at night, so that no one could see that Harry is disappearing for long hours. The boy knew that the teachers were watching him carefully. He felt Dumbledore and McGonagall observing him almost all the time. But Snape was bothering him the most – sometimes Harry had the impression that the hated teacher knows exactly what's in the diary he's carrying with him. Therefore Harry, to avoid suspicions, was studying at night and was sleepy all the time.

Besides, Harry still hasn't invited anyone to Slughorn's Christmas party.  He would like to take Tom with him, because he knew that he has a healthy approach towards this type of events. But apart from such obvious obstacles like Tom being a memory and the less obvious ones - he was after all Voldemort's memory, Harry thought that him coming with a boy would arouse a lot of interest. Therefore, in order not to create unnecessary sensationa (as if he already wasn't one), Harry decided to invite a girl. One December morning he shared this decision with Tom, which caused laughter of the latter:

_I thought you'd take me_ . Harry wasn't sure if it was a joke or not, so he decided not to comment. _Who has caught your eye?_

_To be honest - no one. I feel the same way as before the Yule Ball,_ Harry sighed with annoyance.

Jthey were eating breakfast. Or rather Harry was eating and Tom stood behind him. Sometimes he would walk around the Great Hall, looking at pupils whose parents or grandparents he knew, having a lot of fun with no one seeing him. Sometimes Harry had the impression that the ghosts could sense Tom's presence, but so far none of them initiated an alarm. Now Tom looked around the room and an exceptionally mischievous smile appeared on his face:

_Lets think... Hermione Granger?_

_She was supposed to go with Ron, but they're not talking to each other, so she's going with Cormac to make Ron jealous I guess._

_Girls can fall so low,_ Tom remarked and then added: _What about Parvati Patil? You've been to that other ball with her, right?_

_Yes, and to this day she won't talk to me._

_Not only you cannot kiss, but you're also a terrible dancer?_ Tom joked, although he knew that he's on thin ice now. Harry was awfully touchy when it came to kissing. _Maybe I should give you a few lessons?_

_No, thanks,_ Harry drawled.

He had to make a really unpleasant face, because several first years looked at him fearfully. Something like that was happening to him from time to time. Not always was he able to control his facial expressions when talking to Tom. The latter was of course terribly amused. Harry silently thanked the heavens that Ron and Hermione had quarreled, because thanks to this they weren't paying much attention to _him_ .

_You know I'm always at your service_ , Riddle said. _Wait, is this Ginny Weasley?_  He pointed at the redhead Gryffindor. _She has grown up so much!_

_She changed over the last few months,_  Harry noticed, but then the meaning of Tom's words came to him suddenly. _What do you mean by "she has grown up”?!_

_Well, when I saw her up close for the last time, she was in her first grade,_ Riddle answered evasively.

_What do you mean?!_ Harry was now screaming. He couldn't imagine that Tom spoke with someone other than him.

_Don't tell me you're jealous?_ Tom laughed, though a shadow of hope could be heard in his voice.

_What?! Are you kidding me?! You pompous, egotistical, arrogant narcissus!_  Harry swung his arm to hit Riddle so violently that he dropped a whole plate with toasts from the table. A little girl squealed with fright and hid behind a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Riddle laughed loudly, but nobody besides Harry could hear it. Even the teachers were now looking with curiosity and concern towards the Gryffindor table, trying to guess what infuriated the Chosen One so much.

_You really should invite me, my dear,_ Tom added, before a fork flied in his direction.

 

...

 

Snape made an Unbreakable Vow to Malfoy's mother.

I see it doesn't impress you?

_I would prefer to know if you had a good time with Miss Lovegood._

It was pretty... nice.

_I'm glad to hear it._

Tom, don't you see that Malfoy is up to something?!

_Don't yell at me. Of course that I see it, but I don't intend to do anything about it. What about your Christmas? Sitting here all the time was terribly inconvenient. And deadly boring._

You know that the Burrow was protected. I couldn't take you there, it would be too dangerous.

_You're worried about me? Who would have thought._

You're terribly snappy lately. What happened?

_Nothing, nothing of course. Sometimes I just regret I cannot be with you more often. Always._

I can manage on my own.

_You are my soul mate, Harry, I have to take care of you. But you hasn't told me yet, how it was at the Burrow?_

The Minister wanted to persuade me that I should work for the Ministry. I refused.

_Why?_

Because I would be just a propaganda puppet in their hands.

Y _ou would give people hope._

False one. I prefer to defeat Voldemort first. And if we're talking about this: when are we starting our hunt?

_From what I remember, Dumbledore told you to get a memory, right?_

Tom, you can always spoil _everything_.

_You have wrong attitude towards this task._

What do you mean?

_And I thought that you finally learned how to use your brain after lessons with me..._

Tom, what do you mean?

Tom?

Tom!

 

...

 

Harry tried to get that memory in many ways - asking, threatening, even crying, but none of it worked. In addition, he noted that Slughhorn started avoiding him, which didn't make this task easier. Tom was making things even worse, because he was laughing quietly in the background all the time seeing Harry's efforts. The boy didn't know what was so funny about it, but felt like an idiot.

After Ron almost died because of poisoning, Harry began to seriously worry about safety at school. He suspected that Malfoy is behind all these incidents, but he couldn't prove anything. It only made him terribly annoyed and was growling at Ron and Hermione at every opportunity - they couldn't understand what burden was upon him.Sometimes Harry had the impression that only Tom is able to understand his situation.

One night, when Harry completed all his homework and it was time for a lesson with Tom, he felt extremely exhausted. He had no strength for anything and knew that there are at least a few hours of excercises ahead.

 

...

 

_The room looked as usual – Harry was always walking into the memory through it. He suspected that this building is the Riddle's House, the one he saw in Dumbldeore's memories. This time Tom wasn't waiting for him, so Harry unwittingly sat down in the soft armchair. Warmth from the fireplace and silence reigning in the house made him completely peaceful and after a moment Harry closed his eyes. He told himself it was just for a few minutes, but before he noticed, he fell into a deep sleep._

_During this time Tom was walking around the room on the first floor visibly nervous - Harry was late half an hour already, which meant that they've lost a lot of time. It might seem that Riddle was only annoyed, but he actually began to feel a slight uneasiness. Harry was never late. What could have stopped him? Tom had seen the darkest scenarios before his eyes and walked across the room from one corner to another._

_What was his astonishment when he saw the boy in his own armchair. He couldn't help smiling - Harry looked like a sixteen year old boy should - his face wasn't showing the usual signs of worry and concern for the whole world._

_Tom didn't have the heart to wake his student up - he could forgive him falling asleep this one time. Maybe he was really too demanding._

_But just looking at the sleeping Gryffindor wasn't the best idea - the armchair was certainly not the most convenient and Harry's head began to tilt dangerously and threatened him with an imminent collapse._

_Tom did what he thought was right. He lifted Harry gently and laid him in his bed. He had to admit that the boy looked lovely. Light from he fireplace made the shadows under his eyes stand out more, but Tom didn't consider it to be disfiguring._

_He couldn't stop himself and brushed Harry's dark hair._

_The boy moved slightly in his sleep._

_Tom felt a twinge of fear - Harry probably won't be delighted if he sees him in such an ambiguous situation._

_But to his surprise Harry, still asleep, grabbed his hand and murmured softly:_

_"Don't go."_

_Tom leaned over him for a moment and wondered whether he really should do it. Harry probably wouldn't believe him if he said that he asked for it..._

_“I was cruelly killing and torturing and now I'm afraid to stay with him?” Tom scolded himself and made a decision._

_Slowly, he lay down next to Harry, trying not to wake him up. As soon as he found himself next to the boy, Harry greedily grabbed his shirt and nestled into his neck._

_“We are so alike, Harry,” Tom thought before he too fell asleep._


	10. Overheard conversations, revealed secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is a crying mess and Tom turns his psycho mode on.

When Harry woke up in his bed, he had a strange feeling that he didn't fall asleep in there. He vaguely remember Tom's room and fire burning in the fireplace. It seemed to him that he sat down in the armchair. Or maybe he just went to bed and ignored his practice? No, it was ridiculous. Why would he lie down in Tom's bed of all places? It must have been a really weird dream.

That explanation seemed reasonable enough, although Harry vaguely remembered that he survived a close encounter with somebody's neck.

_Where do I take these ideas from?,_ Harry asked himself, reaching out towards the table, looking for his glasses, but his hand came across a mysterious object.

Harry raised his head and was surprised to discovered a small crystal vial standing on his nightstand. The content of it was even stranger - there was no doubt that it cointained a _memory_.

_Is it possible that Slughorn send it?_ , Harry started wondering frantically.

There was no other way to find out, so Harry quickly jumped out of his bed and ran towards the headmaster's office as soon as he got ready.

Harry wondered for a moment why Tom is nowhere to be seen, but came to the conclusion that they can talk about the memory later.

“I have it!” the boy exclaimed triumphantly, running up the swirly hidden stairs.

“Harry, that's wonderful!” Dumbledore replied with a genuine smile, already sitting at his desk with some papers despite the early hour. “I also have two more memories for you.”

The boy suddenly felt that maybe he shouldn't judge the headmaster so hastily - after all they wanted the same thing. They wanted to get rid of Voldemort.

“I'm glad that you're doing it all, sir,” Harry said suddenly.

“For the greater good,” Dumbledore smiled at him before they both dived in the Pensieve.

 

...

 

Tom, where are you, damn it?!

Tom!

Say something!

 

...

 

Harry panicked. Tom didn't answer to any summons, he wasn't in the diary too. He even checked the garden, but he hasn't found anyone in there. Harry wondered what has he done that Tom disappeared so suddenly.

His nervousness drew the attention of other students and teachers. Everything was flying out of his hands and even the simplest spells caused him troubles. When he accidentally blew up his cauldron, Slughorn asked anxiously:

“Why don't you go to the hospital wing, boy?”

Harry tried to refuse, but when a moment later he almost stabbed a knife in Hermione's hand instead of the prickly pear's root, Slughorn categorically told him to go to the infirmary.

Harry walked up the stairs slowly and lifelessly. He felt so hopeless that he doubted that Madam Pomfrey would be able to help him. He would never have suspected that he'd become so dependent of someone. Of a _memory_. Why should he care so much about Tom? Frankly, it began to be a little frightening.

As he passed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, he decided to once again chceck if he didn't ovelook something. He knew that Slughorn would be furious, seeing that Harry is wandering through the corridors instead of going to the nurse, but at the moment he didn't really care.

In the familiar room Harry examined the bedside table and its surroundings, he even looked under the bed. And he found nothing. Despeir started to get hold of him.

He threw himself on the bed and felt tears come to his eyes. Not trying to stop them, Harry felt a little like a child who's toy was taken away. Perhaps his behavior was childish, but he couldn't do anything about it.

“Harry, what's wrong?” someone asked suddenly right next to his ear.

The boy looked up and saw Tom's gray and worried eyes.

“You,” he could only weep and fell back on his pillow. He felt he shakes with spasmodic sobs and didn't even try to stop it. Tom hugged him and patted him gently on the head, but Harry was still crying.

“What happened?” Riddle finally asked, when he decided that the boy calmed down enough.

“I thought you left,” Harry sniffed, still tugging onto Riddle's shirt. “I was with Dumbledore and when I came back, I couldn't find you.

“I was gone only for a couple of hours,” Tom tried to explain himself. “I thought you won't notice, that you'll be busy with my memory.”

“ _Your_ memory?” Harry finally lifted his head and looked at Tom with surprise. “But it was _Slughorn's_ memory.”

“I guess you'll never appreciate me enough,” Tom snorted. “ _I_ left this memory. After all I too was present at this conversation. I was hoping for some time that you'd ask for it, but seeing you struggling with Slughorn, I decided to voluntarily give it to you.”

Harry still looked unconvinced, but apparently something else came to his mind, because he said:

“I was at Dumbledore's office with that memory, but he... showed me something else,” the boy began to shake again and Riddle was afraid that maybe Harry was sick. “Tom, you were so _horrifying_!”

After these words Harry started to cry again and Tom understood only a few words escaping his mouth:

“You came to ask for a job... so inhuman... I don't want you to... Promise me...”

“Calm down, Harry. I'm with you,” he lifted the boy's face and wiped traces of tears from his cheeks. “When did you begin to worry about me so much, huh?”

“Tom, you're... _real_ ,” Harry noticed suddenly. “What happened?”

Earlier, the boy hasn't noticed this obvious fact. Tom was sitting on his bed, as usual, but this time there was something new about him. Harry could bet he just _touched_ him, and Tom smelled like the frosty winter air, coffee and caramel, like he just came out of the Honeydukes.

“I was somewhat surprised,” Tom smiled a little and Harry had to admit that in this form his smile looked even better. “I suspect it's because of _you_. I became more real, because you were so distressed when I disappeared.”

“Do you think it's possible?”

“Memories can draw strength from living people, I'm sure of it. But don't do it anymore – I was afraid that something happened to you... I immediately went back to the castle.”

“And where exactly have you been?” Harry asked somehow accusingly – apparently he regained his balance.

“I was looking for the Horcruxes,” Tom answered simply, although he expected what Harry's reaction will look like.

He wasn't mistaken.

“What?!” Harry yelled with anger, waving his arms violently. “You went without me?”

“We have bigger problems now,” Tom mentioned lightly.

“What? You cheated on me! You think that's _not_ a problem?”

“Be quiet for a moment and listen to me,” Tom tried to calm him down. “If anyone hears you scream, they may come here and see me!”

Harry looked at him stupidly.

“How can they? I thought... _Damn!”_

Only now he realized that if Tom has a body others will be able to see him too. It was certainly a _big_ problem.

“What are we going to do?” Harry began to wonder aloud.

“Oh, I can always go back to the diary or at least I think I can do it,” Tom replied calmly.

Harry looked at him in surprise:

“I don't want you to go. I want you to stay here with me.”

“Harry, think about what you're asking for,” Tom looked worried. “Think about what you want from me.”

“I want to...” Harry began, but Riddle suddenly put his hand to his lips and pointed to the stairs. Someone was on his way to the dormitory.

“My Invisibility Cloak,” Harry whispered, but couldn't find it anywhere. “Where is it?”

The steps were getting closer, so Harry grabbed Tom's hand and knocked him to the ground.

“It wasn't too _nice_ ,” Riddle stated .

“Don't be silly. Quickly, get under my bed, maybe they won't notice you.”

“You've got to be _kidding_ ,” Tom looked at him in surprise.

“I'm _not_. Hurry up.”

“You'll regret it later,” Riddle hissed angrily, sliding under Harry's bed.

 

...

 

Over the next few weeks, Harry tried to figure out a way to disguise Tom in a way to simultaneously have him around all the time. He even considered the idea of giving him some Polyjuice Potion, so he could pretend to be a another student, but Tom flatly refused, saying that no one can equal his looks. Harry had to admit Tom was right – in addition as a student Riddle would be under continuous observation of teachers who certainly were already aware something suspicious was going on in the school, remembering the not so old case of Barty Crouch Jr. The Invisibility Cloak turned out to be a better idea, though it had some drawbacks. Tom wore it all the time, but sometimes he couldn't avoid collisions with other students in the hallway or on the stairs. Besides, Harry couldn't talk to him aloud; he didn't want to look even more weird than usual.

On the other hand the Gryffindor wouldn't change the chance of being with Tom in such form for anything - he had become accustomed to his ironic observations (although he preferred to call them _silly_ ) and long - sometimes pointless - discussions. Although he still had the impression that he knows little about Tom - certainly a lot less than Tom knew about _him_ – he was more often able to guess what mood Riddle's in and what he's actually thinking about. In recent months they have learned to live together, but it still sounded pretty strange to Harry. Even though the thought of Tom as Voldemort appeared in his mind increasingly rarer, he couldn't completely get rid of it, and in recent days an unfortunete accident reminded him of...

After Riddle miraculously materialized, they had already developed quite safe day plan which allowed them to avoid the risk of capturing Tom Marvolo Riddle himself in the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, while allowing him to feel quite free. Of course not without obstacles, the biggest of which was probably Harry's reluctance to get up early in the morning to freely use the bathroom. For some reason Riddle insisted that Harry got up the on the break of dawn, when the bathrooms were still empty. Harry couldn't understand why exactly Tom can't get up alone allowing him to sleep, so he once asked about it - Riddle replied with his usual simplicity, it's one of the few moments when they can have a normal conversation.

Harry wasn't sure if the bathroom mornings could be called _normal_ though - among all the words he knew, this one fitted them the least. Just three days after Tom's embodiment, when they went to the bathroom and noticed that all but one of the showers weren't working (thinking about it later Harry wasn't so sure if he should believe it was a coincidence), Tom said with a beaming smile:

“But we can shower together.”

Harry didn't comment on this proposition, which was supposed to meant he would wait and Riddle could go first. His blush was indeed a sufficient commentary itself. He thanked Merlin that he didn't propose using the prefects' bathroom - he preferred not to think about what strange ideas Tom might try to carry out there.

After the morning toilet they were going down for breakfast. Or rather Harry was, walking into the Great Hall and taking some tosts from the Gryffindor table. At this time very few students would pay attention to him. If the weather was favorable, he would come outside with Tom and when it rained, they were looking for a comfortable place in the castle - it wasn't too difficult. They had only to watch out for Filch and teachers wandering around the corridors sometimes, but it wasn't that hard having the Marauders Map.

Then they went to class – but they didn't always go together, because Tom had, as he put it himself, "his own business to mind." Harry suspected it had something to do with the Horcruxes and perhaps with Malfoy too.

The latter has become a veritable trouble for Harry these days. Although he couldn't explain what really bothered him about Draco, he was sure that it was something unpleasant and possibly dangerous. Riddle ignored these remarks, lost in his own thoughts, ensuring that Harry certainly was in no danger. This continued until one afternoon...

Harry just returned from his Transmutation class. That day he didn't have any company, but he felt Tom's presence near – he was probably sitting in the library. Wanting to visit him, Harry turned to a corridor on the second floor, in order to shorten his way. Suddenly he heard a strange quiet sound coming from a short distance, as if someone was trying to muffle his sobs.

He looked around and was surprised to find that the cry comes from behind the Moaning Myrtle's bathroom door. There would be nothing strange in it coming from there, if not the fact that Harry was completely sure he heard a _boy_.

He peered into the bathroom and saw no one other than Draco Malfoy at the sink.

Instinct told him to leave as soon as possible, maybe even run away, quietly escaping from that place, but some strange force told him to stay and watch this unusual scene. What he saw was a tragedy, but he couldn't understand it then.

Perhaps he would even ask Malfoy if something happened, but the Slytherin boy suddenly raised his head and saw Harry's face in the mirror.

He turned quickly toward the intruder and attacked without any warning. Quietly and with persistence. Harry was shocked. When did Malfoy start to behave like this? He rather suspected him of sneering or threatening him, but not _attacking_.

“Are you mad?!” Harry cried, but didn't get any answer.

Someone pulled him by his arm before he could pull out his wand.

“Move back, Harry, it's none of your business.”

Malfoy looked in the direction from which the voice came but didn't see anything of course. His gaze lingered on Harry for a moment and then he passed him and walked away, like a man who doesn't exactly know what was happening - as if the world around him suddenly became less real.

“What are you thinking?!” Harry pushed Riddle into the bathroom and shut the door, taking away the Invisibility Cloak. “He _attacked_ me! How can you leave it like that?”

“Stop it, please,” Tom tried to calm him somehow. “Nothing bad happened.”

“Nothing happened?! _Nothing?!_ So it would make an impression on you only if something _happened?”_

“You know it's not true,” the boy looked at him strangely relentlessly. “If you started a fight, you'd only unnecessarily get teachers' attention. What's the point?”

“But...”

“Stop it already, Harry,” Tom seemed to be tired of this conversation. “Malfoy didn't want to hurt you. I _know_ it,” he added, seeing that Harry wants to interrupt him. “Let's go out from here, okay?”

“But...” Harry said. “Oh, well,” he sighed, seeing Riddle's face. “Something bothering you, right?”

There was no response – Harry wasn't hoping to get one. Instead, Tom grabbed his hand and looked at him as if he wanted to tell him many things. But he couldn't and Harry understood it.

There was something magical and elusive in this moment and Harry was silent, not wanting to destroy it.

“ _It's you!”_ a raised voice brought Harry back from his reverie and he remembered where he was.

Moaning Myrtle was floating above the water flooded floor, pointing her trembling finger at Tom. Her face showed fear and something else, as if she caught a criminal red-handed.

Harry was afraid - they had to flee immediately from here before Myrtle would make a noise. Tom should hide in the diary. And if somebody asks him who was that man with whom he walked around the castle? And what he did with him in the bathroom? Maybe he'll have to run away from the school? He had to protect Tom at all costs - that was all that mattered.

“Come on, quickly,” he pulled Riddle's sleeve, but the other boy didn't move. “Tom, we need to go.”

He looked up and was surprised to see Riddle stare at Moaning Myrtle's almost as intensively as she was looking at him. Tom seemed appalled in some way by what he saw and Harry understood less and less of it.

Riddle suddenly came back to his senses and without a word went out into the hallway, pulling Harry behind. They walked almost the entire corridor before Harry realized that he's still holding the Invisibility Cloak in his hands. He forced Tom to stop for a moment. As always they had a lot of luck - no one was wandering on the second floor, for what Harry thanked Merlin - what would he do if they suddenly ran into Snape or Dumbledore?

He glanced up at Tom's face. The boy looked strangely agitated and this time Harry had to know why.

“What...” he began.

“Don't ask,” Riddle cut him out sharply.

“But... What?!” Harry had enough of these weird mood changes. “What do you think? You think you can just get rid of me like that? Imagine that I'm really worried. If you don't tell me what...”

“You are _worried?”_ Riddle seemed amused, but it was an alarming, mad kind of amusement.

“What's going on?”

“But why should you be worried?!” Tom didn't pay any attention to his words. “What is there to worry about? It's just... It's just...” he laughed hysterically. “It's just the first person I _murdered_.”

He laughed, still covering his mouth with his hand, as if to hide the demonic grimace.

Harry looked at him, not understanding. What person? And why was Tom behaving so strangely? He was different than usual - he was horrifying. Harry felt a cold shiver of terror run along the back of his neck. He barely mastered the desire to escape.

But... Tom couldn't have meant Moaning Myrtle? When did she actually die? Harry associated ghosts with people dead a long time ago, before he or Tom were even born. Besides, Riddle couldn't kill her - he still went to school when he created the diary, he wasn't even seventeen years old at that time, he couldn't be a _murderer_. However... Harry felt that a very important thought has escaped his memory – something he should know, but he forgot.

And then it hit him.

He looked back at Tom, who has almost stopped laughing and stared at Harry with madness in his eyes. He has seen this sight before...

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware,” Harry didn't know why he said it, but he was sure they were in trouble.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what will Harry do about his old dear friend Voldemort appearing so suddenly? I know it already, but you can try to guess before the next chapter is up.


	11. The Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom goes crazy, but Harry is there to make things better. At least for some time.

„The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware,” Harry didn't know when the words escaped his mouth.

_Run away, run away right now,_ a voice whispered in his head, but he couldn't move.

Who was this person in front of him? Could it be Tom? No, it was absurd - Tom never looked at him in such a way, he never behaved like that. When he laughed, he was charming and not _frightening_. Harry didn't want to state that Tom was _innocent_ \- he knew what past he had behind him. But the past was gone now. Or so he thought.

„Why are you so silent, Harry?”, Riddle smiled at him and the boy felt a cold shiver. Who was this man? „Oh, I guess you're not afraid of me, are you?”

„W-who are you?” Harry finally asked aloud, scolding himself for stuttering. He had to do something about this situation before a student or a teacher walked into them.

“Me? You cannot say you do not recognize me?” The strange man approached him and Harry found out with horror that Tom's face was no longer like before - some mysterious changes he couldn't explain occurred to it and he saw a strangely familiar grimace. Where had he seen it before?

“Who you are?”, Harry asked again, this time controlling his trembling voice.

“How long will you pretend to be dumber than you are, my dear?”, Riddle leaned over him and a warm breath tickled Harry's cheek. “We know each other long and clouse enough, don't we?”

“Tom?”, Harry asked hopefully.

“Tom?”, the man smiled slightly. “Tom Marvolo Riddle, right? I was once called that. But you know who I am _now_.” He looked at Harry, madness lurking in his eyes. Then he grabbed the boy's chin painfully, pinning him against the wall.

“Tom, what are you doing?,” Harry panted, trying to free himself, but Riddle's second hand stopped him.

“Don't call me this name!”, an unexpected scream froze Harry.

_Damn, I need to do something_ , a frantic thought ran through his head. _If this goes on, a lost student will be my smallest problem._

“My dear, you know my name,” Riddle continued, returning to his previous tone. “Say it.”

“No,” Harry said before he could stop himself.

The grip on his wrists strengthened.

“Say it. Tell me what they call me.”

Harry was silent.

“Tell me. You don't want me to get angry, right?”

_Why can't he stop?_

“Do not make me wait.”

_Why can't he just shup up?_

“Your resistance doesn't make sense, Harry.”

“Shut the hell up!,” Harry was surprised to hear his own voice.

But what he did later was even more shocking.

His sudden shout stunned Riddle for a moment, of which Harry took advantage, freeing his hands. He pulled them up and leaned heavily on shoulders of the madman... and then kissed him.

It was totally different than in the diary. Then, he had to admit it, it felt _nice_. Now he had the impression of kissing a corpse and not a human being. Merlin, what has he gotten himself into? If this goes on, he'll become a godamn lover of Lord Voldemort!

_No, calm down, it's Tom_ , he reminded himself. _My Tom. He may be a little crazy, and sometimes I can't understand him - probably because he's a Slytherin – but he cares about me and we eat breakfast together. I'll get you out of this, Tom, you punk._

As soon as the thought formed in his mind, he had a feeling that something had changed.

But what made him so surprised?

For a moment Harry couldn't understand it, but suddenly he realized what had happened.

Tom was kissing him back.

It was relentlessly, yet sweet, just like when he kissed him for the first time.

_If this goes on, I may stop thinking clearly_ , Harry felt that he was slowly giving up. But they had to get out of here. Immediately. Someone could see them.

_So what?_ , a strangely happy voice had nothing against this situation. _You have to take as much as you can as long as there is an opportunity._

_Opportunity?_ , Harry was indignant with the remains of his consciousness. _No one will tell him that he have to use such occasions._

The boy recalled what hands are used for and pushed Tom away.

He heard a sigh that could express only disappointment.

“Harry...” Riddle held out his hand, trying to draw Harry closer again, but before he could touch him, something whistled and and he felt stinging pain.

Tom raised his hand to his cheek and looked at Harry in surprise.

“What was this for?,” he didn't seem to catch it.

“What was this for?! What?!” Harry somehow started yelling. “After all what you've done, you dare to ask what was it for?!”

Tom looked at him without understanding. Apparently he didn't quite remember what actually happened. Besides, he looked perfectly normal now - the frown and laughter of a madman dissapeared, the scary gleam in his eyes turned to amazement.

“But...,” he began, but Harry wasn't going to let him speak.

“You know how you scared me? Can you imagine, what could have happenen? When will you realize that you're no damn Lord Voldemort, when?! I don't allow you, do you hear me?! I don't allow you!”

When Harry said (or rather screamed) all of these, he felt emotionally exhausted. Tom still looked at him as if couln't understood anyhing.

“Voldemort? Where are you taking such ideas from, Harry? Why all of a sudden are we having this conversation?” Harry did not answer, so Riddle continued: “We've talked about Malfoy and it seemed to me that we explained everything to each other, I thought, perhaps, that even... Anyway, it doesn't matter. Then you pulled on my sleeve and I...” Tom stopped suddenly.

_He recalled it_ , Harry hought. _He recalled meeting Moaning Myrtle. Does he remember the rest? What if it comes back again? Maybe we shouldn't talk about it now..._

“What... what have I done, Harry?” Tom's voice was emotionless. “Did I do something to you?”

“Let's go, all right?” The boy grabbed Riddle's hand. “We've counting on our luck too long already.”

Tom didn't answer. He let Harry wrap him in the Invisibility Cloak and run down the hall.

Harry wasn't sure how it happened that they stopped at the door to the Room of Requirement.

It didn't look like anything special on the inside this time - the room was much smaller than last year during the meetings of Dumbledore's Army and only a table with two chairs stood near the window.

Harry sat by it, Tom, however, began to pace the room restlessly.

“I did something to you, didn't I?”

The boy was silent. He wasn't sure what he should say.

“So I really did something to you, I hurt you,” Riddle sighed. “I understand that you don't want to talk about it.”

“No, it's not the case,” Harry denied. “You didn't hurt me,” Tom looked at him in disbelief. “Well, maybe it's not quite the right word, but I'm all right, after all, as you can see. I'm safe and sound.”

For a moment they were silent. Golden sunlight flew into the room through the high windows and illuminated dust floating in the air. It reminded Harry of the champagne they drunk together. Maybe if they drunk some of it now, everything could comehow work out?

“I'm sorry,” Tom said quietly and Harry came back to reality.

“You don't have to be.” It was true. How could he predict meeting Moaning Myrtle in the bathroom? After all, he was only trying to protect him against Malfoy.

“I should have never spoken to you. I knew that one day something like that can happen. Harry, what if I have been hoping for it to happen all this time? What if I'm no Tom Riddle? I should have left you long time ago, for your own good.”

“What are you talking about? Without you I would have ended in St. Mungo long ago. Well, it's highly possible with you around anyway,” Harry smiled slightly. “Another kiss of the Dark Lord and I may not regain my mental balance.”

“From what I remember, _you_ kissed me.” It seemed Tom's trenchant humor has returned. “And then you slapped me. As if I forced you into anything.”

“I did it because...”

“Yes, why did you do that?”

“Because it was the only way to sober you up!” Harry had the impression that this argument sounded very weakly.

“Admit it, you can not resist me,” Riddle turned around and took a few steps toward the door.

“Wait, where are you going again?” Harry called, jumping up of the chair.

“Charms,” Tom replied.

* * *

 

In the evening, when the rest of the Gryffindor tower was asleep (and Tom Riddle took care to make the sleep strong and smooth), Harry Potter sat on his bed next to a failed Dark Lord. It seemed that the earlier events were only a bad memory - Tom behaved insolently as always and streched out on Harry's bed as if he were at home. This was another point of contention, just as waking up early. On the one hand, Harry preferred to have Tom always with him (and today's attack convinced him that it was the only good solution), but on the other - Riddle was the most annoying roommate he could imagine. Not only did he use Harry's bed as his own, but he didn't allow the latter to sleep on the floor too. Nor did he want to conjure another bedding, hiding behind poor magical force of memories, at the same time casting some hypnotic spells at other Gryffindors.

That's why Harry had to share. It was a fact visible at a first glance that the bed wasn't designed for two. Therefore, the miserable sixth grader would often woke up during the night with Riddle's arm wrapped around his own, though he went to sleep with his back turned. Trying to get out wasn't making much sense – Tom woken up from a deep sleep was even more unbearable than Tom during the day.

They sat together on the bed now, and Tom told Harry what he had learned about the Horcruxes - it turned out that the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, which Harry saw in the last lesson with Dumbledore, was located in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault at Gringott's. It was definitely a place not easy to rob, but Harry knew that nothing is impossible. Another revelation was about the locket of Slytherin - it was hidden in a cave by the sea, as Tom previously suspected. Harry had hoped that these information would accelerate their journey, but he was grossly wrong - Riddle thought that Harry shouldn't disappear in the middle of the school year, so as not to arouse suspicion.

He didn't foresee, however, that someone else will come up with the idea of hunting for Horcruxes. When Dumbledore summoned Harry, he could only suspected what the enigmatic message means. 

“It's time, Harry.” These words chilled the boy's blood. Tom was right behind him and these words had a considerable impact on him too.

Harry was silent the whole way – firstly they appeared at the stromy coast, then crossed it to the dark cave. The boy protested when Dumbledore gave his blood so they could go to the next chamber.

“Your blood is more valuable,” the old wizard smiled, although his tone was serious like never before.

Harry felt that Tom follows them and it encouraged him a little. He believed that if something bad happens, Riddle will help them. When they sailed through the darkened lake, it seemed to Harry that the headmaster noticed the presence of a third person, but he said nothing.

And then there was something Harry hadn't expected. Yes, he knew that the Horcrux would be protected, but never suspected that winning it will cost so much. With every sip of the terrible potion, Dumbledore was vanishing in his eyes, and Harry couldn't help it. Once they pulled the medallion from the bottom of the vessel and fled before Inferi could get them, he felt terribly tired. They managed to somehow get back to Hogsmeade and Dumbledore was a little bit better by this time. Tom probably continued to accompany them, but didn't interfere. Harry felt a little strange, standing between Tom and Dumbledore – like if he was cheating them both. And himself.

Only the cries of passers-by turned their attention to the castle. Harry felt terror. They were away only for a few hours and the Death Eaters seized the castle. His friends – were they all right? The thought nagged him.

However, what happened next exceeded all his expectations. He looked at Draco Malfoy aiming at Dumbledore. He couldn't do anything. And then Snape, the same Snape Dumbledore trusted so much. _The murderer_. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as if time stood still. Malfoy and Snape fled.

He wanted to run and scream, but his mind told him to stand still and look at this strange scene.

Before he knew it, he was sinking to his knees.

“I'm such a hopeless wimp,” Harry whispered to himself.

He felt a presence nearby.

“You're not,” Tom said quietly, pulling him closer. “Believe me, it'll all make sense.”

Harry didn't want to believe him. Death couldn't make any sense.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, but life has been really tough the last few weeks and I had no heart for writing.  
> I'll try to finish "Forget me not" withing this month.


	12. Time to say goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's birthday is a catastrophe, but Tom is there to save the day. Unfortunately Hermione is there too.

„Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything?,” Tom asked.

„I think I have everything that might come in handy,” Harry said, looking at his backpack. „I took all the books I've found useful; and a tent and a sleeping bag, some food, the Invisibility Cloak, a map... Yeah, that's probably all I need.”

Since Dumbledore's death a few weeks Harry was geeting ready for the expedition. He only had to wait until his seventeenth birthday, so the ministry couldn't track him down. Then thinghs should be easier. Of course, he had to somehow get rid of Ron, Hermione, the whole Weasley family and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix along the way, but it shouldn't be too difficult.

“Your pajamas!” - Tom recalled Tom and Harry's thoughts scattered. Sometimes he had the impression that Riddle is a little too concerned about him, but he was incapable of changing his attitude.

“I could've been all right without it,” he sighed.

“No,” Tom answered him briefly, like pajamas could be considered prejudicial for his mission.

“We meet on Saturday at Grimmauld Place,” Harry repeated like a mantra.

“And then we start searching for the horcruxes,” Tom confirmed.

“Don't destroy all of them without me,” the boy said with a smile. Sometimes he was surprised he could still joke around.

“I'd like to present you such a gift, but it's rather impossible.” Tom's voice was bitter. “I'll miss you, Harry.”

“You know that I'll miss you too.” The boy looked at his companion uncertainly. They haven't parted over the past months for more than a few hours and now Harry had to spend almost a week in solitary confinement.

“You can still change your mind,” Tom said, pointing at the old diary.

“No, I can't think only about my own wishes,” he cut off the conversation.

The clock in Dursleys' empty living room struck midnight.

“Time for me.” Tom walked toward the door. He paused for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but apparently abandoned this intention and left without another word.

Harry felt a strange tightness in his stomach. Should he let Riddle leave without saying goodbye? Their relationship was so strange - he didn't know whether Tom was his teacher, brother, friend or maybe... Whoever he was, he couldn't let him go away like this.

The boy quickly ran out of his room and was surprised to ran into Tom standing in the hallway. What was he still doing here?

“I knew you'd come,” Riddle smiled sadly.

“Is this some new test?” Harry sometimes had enough of their weird chases.

“No, I just wanted...” Tom stoppped. None of them had the courage to say what they both thought. “See you on Saturday, Harry.”

Riddle turned on his heel and started going down the stairs.

Harry couldn't resist and ran after him.

“Tom.” The boy clung to Riddle's back as if they were never to see each other again, almost falling down the stairs.

The Dark Lord-to be turned around and looked at Harry extremely gloomily.

“Don't worry. I'll be back,” he kissed him on the forehead and left.

Frankly, it wasn't what Harry was hoping for.

...

 

For the first time I his life Harry wasn't happy that he had to spend his holidays at the Burrow. Of course he knew that he wouldn't wait there till the end of August; he just wanted to wait until his birthday and then escape. Harry came to the conclusion that it won't be that difficult, because everyone was busy with the wedding and no one paid much attention to his behavior.

The only thing that somewhat livened him was the visit of the Minister of Magic with Dumbledore's last will. Harry didn't see what sense was there in giving him the old Snitch, but still the memory of the late headmaster gave him a little ray of hope. A cart Scrimgour gave him, hovewer, amazed him so much more. The seal on the envelope was broken, which meant a specialists from the Ministry probably already read the message, but Harry wasn't surprised about it. Inside was a single sheet of paper on which Dumbledore wrote in his usual tall letters just a few words, "Anyone can be wrong, everybody can change". Did the headmaster knew about Tom? Or maybe he meant someone else? Harry couldn't guess.

On the day of the wedding he drank some Polyjuice Potion and pretended to be Ron's cousin. All the time trying to be in control of his backpack lying under the table, he was in no mood to party, but he tried not to show it. At least Ron and Hermione seemed to have fun.

He didn't foresee that - as usual - something will go wrong. When Kingsley's Patronus appeared in the middle of the hall, Harry held his breath. He had enough time only to grab his backpack before someone pulled him and everything turned black.

After a moment, he stood on an unknown street, and next to him were Ron and Hermione.

_Damn!_ , Harry thought frantically. _Now, how can I get rid of them?_

He didn't pay much attention to where they were going. He couldn't hear what his friends were saying. It was only the Death Eaters attack that restored his mental clarity. They couldn't stay there. They had to hide. Where? Of course he knew where. Grimmauld Place was prepared for their arrival. For _his_ arrival. He secretly hoped that he could finally start looking for the Horcruxes himself. Well, with Tom. But Ron and Hermione were not needed. On the other hand, he couldn't just leave them. They were his _friends_. Maybe sometimes they irritated him a little, but he couldn't leave them in this critical situation. But at the same time he was scared what can happen and didn't want to put them in more danger.

He suggested aloud that they should go to Sirius' house. _His_ house. The other two eagerly agreed and Harry could only prayed that Tom isn't waling down the hallway to greet them. Of course he could pretend that it was just his friend, he could even say that it was his boyfrined, for the sake of peace, but doubted if Hermione and Ron believed it.

Fortunately, when they entered the gloomy house at Grimmauld Place, Harry didn't hear any sounds indicating a presence. Initially he was relieved, but then fear attacked him - where was Tom? They had to meet on Saturday. What could have stopped him? Harry recalled Dumbledore and the cave - what if Tom had been attacked or deprived of his senses? The boy excused himself with fatigue and quickly went to Sirius' bedroom.

Late at night he fell into a fitful sleep, in which he saw disturbing images of the Death Eaters, Voldemort's bloody deeds, duels in which his friends fell. He didn't want to scream because he was afraid someone would notice his terror, but without Tom at his side, he felt helpless.

“Harry, wake up,” he heard a voice somewhere near. “Harry, I came back.”

_I came back?_ In that case, it must be ...

The boy opened his eyes and smiled broadly. Tom was leaning over his bed and looking unharmed. He was relieved to see him in good condition.

“I have something for you,” Riddle smiled as he handed Harry a box wrapped in red paper.

Harry thought it was a birthday gift and said:

“You didn't have to do it...”

“Open it and then you can say what you want,” Tom said mysteriously, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at Harry with amusement.

The boy grabbed the box and gently shook it. He heard a faint rattle. Certainly not books, which pleased him. Maybe another watch? He didn't know what is in vogue as a birthday gift for young wizards. Carefully he unwrapped the bow and tore the glossy paper, opening the lid and looking at the contents of the box with dismay.

At the bottom lay some rubbish. In addition, all damaged. Was it a hoax? What could he do with a broken necklace and equally shattered goblet? And a tiara?

Could it be...

“You promised you won't find them all alone!” he hissed outraged.

“I didn't destroy _all_ of them,” Riddle noted. “There is still the snake...”

“And two other Horcruxes, right?”

“Don't worry about them,” Tom snapped quickly in a slightly annoyed tone. “I have a plan already.”

“If you say so... But what about the snake?”

“Oh, it's quite simple... You have to challenge Voldemort to a duel,” Riddle said, as if talking about the weather.

“A duel? But...”

“The only thing is to kill the snake, Harry.”

“Well,” he agreed reluctantly. “But how can I get in touch with Voldemort?”

“We'll figure something out. But in the meantime I have to go back to the diary. I can't just walk around the house now, when your friends are here.”

“But Tom...” Harry said. “I'd rather like...”

“Sshhhh...” Riddle silenced him and vanished into the thin air.

 

...

 

If this goes on, I'll learn to cook. 

_Is Miss Granger's kitchen lacking something? It would seem that she should be able to use the cookbook._

Sometimes I have the impression that I would prefer to try Hagrid's stone cookies again.

_I wish you had all your teeth when we see each other again._

And when it'll be? We've been sittinh idly here two weeks.

_Idly? What exactly are Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley doing now? If you write to me too often, they'll notice._

I think they have already noticed.

_Harry, I understand that you cannot resist me, but I'd rather like you not to exhibited yourself and me to an unnecessary danger._

Tom, note that since we started living here, you didn't come out. Did I offended you with something?

_I just want protect you._

From whom?

Tom?

...

 

“What are you doing, Harry?”

The boy jumped when he realized Hermione walked on him from behind. Instantly he closed the diary and hoped that she didn't notice.

“Oh, what is it?” The girl held out her hand and Harry held his breath. She saw it. He couldn't let her touch it.

Hermione, however, was surprisingly fast and after a while she was carefully studying the notebook; Harry had no idea how it happened. She curiously flipped through the yellowed pages and read the inscription on the back cover:

“Tom Marvolo Riddle. It's your nickname?” she laughed.

Harry barely restrained so as not to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Yes, something like that.”

“Are you writing a book?” Hermione gave him the diary back and he immediately grabbed it firmly, not noticing a little surprised glance his friend gave him.

“A book? No... It's more something like a diary.”

“A diary? “she was surprised. “But it is completely empty... Oh, I see, you charmed it somehow?”

“Yes,” he picked up this excuse. “I wish no one could read my thoughts.”

“I don't blame you, Harry, but remember that if you want to talk about something, you can always count on me.” The girl headed for the bookcase. “Could you help me? I would like to take some books to the kitchen, it's warmer there and I don't have to look at the family tree.” She pointed to the wall with the genealogy of the noble House of Black.

Harry nodded and rushed to her aid. They were about to leave the room when Hermione stopped in her tracks and stared at something on the wall.

“Oh, I understand now,” she laughed. “This is where you took that name from, right?” She showed something with your finger.

The boy followed her gaze and froze.

On one of the branches of the ancestral tree a named was faintly written. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Harry muttered something unintelligible, which could mean either a confirmation or denial, then quickly left the room.

Perhaps if he had stayed there a while longer, he would notice the look Hermione gave him and the quick research she did, studying the entire wall and a sudden glimpse of glare in her eyes.

 

...

 

I know who you are.

_Miss Granger, I suppose?_

Oh yes. It's me.

_How did you figure it out?_

Harry isn't going anywhere without this diary since our second year at Hogwarts and recently it became an obsession. Why am I saying it at all to you?

_Because you figured out much more than just who I am, right?_

You stopped the heir of Slytherin.

_Why do you think I did it?_

For Harry.

_And how?_

After all, you _are_ the heir of Slytherin.

_Sometimes I wish Harry was as quick-witted as you._

I would take it as a compliment, if it didn't know who you are.

_What else do you know about me?_

I suspect that you hexed those cats in Umbridge's office. And you trained Harry, so he did well in school.

_Right. But why am I doing this?_

I can't believe in what I say, but... You love him.

_Ten points for Gryffindor._

_You'll kill me, right?_

Harry would be furious...

_... but you will do it nonetheless._

I have to. I have no choice. Otherwise we will never get rid of you.

_Don't you want to talk with Harry first? Where is he?_

I sent him to the store together with Ron. Just before they left I deliberately spilled coffee on his pants, so I was able to get the diary.

_Slyly._

_Why are you still here? I thought that you're going to kill me. Or maybe you can't do it, Hermione Granger?_

It's not like that. I know that Harry will be furious.

_I'm not sure if it's the right word. I would rather say that he will be broken._

What are you implying? But Harry...

You don't want to tell me that you and Harry...

_Yes?_

Is there something... between you?

_See how easily I deceived you? You're not a murdered._

You're a liar and a nit.

_Perhaps. I hope that you won't torture me before death because of it. Do you even know how to destroy me?_

Basilisk fang, I found it in Harry's nightstand. Surely it is you who brought it there.

_You're really smart._

Should I say something to him?

_Harry? No words could explain what I want to say to him._

Are you sure?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry it's taking so long, my life's a mess right now. There is another chapter to go and an epilogue, in the meantime I wish you all Merry Christmas!


	13. Face to face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is in despeir. And only Lord Voldemort can do something about it.

„My diary? Where is it?” Harry came into the kitchen so violently that the door rattled.

Hermione looked at his friend uncertainly. He was looking furious. And utterly heartbroken. As if he had lost something far more precious than an old diary.

 _Maybe I made a mistake?_ , the girl thought, but quickly rejected such reasoning - she couldn't do anything now.

“Where is it?” Harry asked again with tears in his eyes. Hermione was really scared - she has never seen her friend in such state.

“Calm down, man. We'll find it,” Ron tried to soothe his nervous friend somehow. “It couldn't dissolve in the thin air.”

Harry's hardly believed in those words - running out from the kitchen with a groan - and began searching around the rooms, tossing each pillow, chair and carpet he met on his way. He looked into all the closets and drawers and even pushed away an old couch in the living room. Ron and Hermione barely stopped him before he headed away from home without his Invisibility Cloak on, wanting to see if someone accidentally threw the diary into their thrash bin.

This situation lasted for the next few days. But then Harry calmed down suddenly, which bothered Hermione even more than his previous despair. It seemed that Harry had a plan. He constantly repeated that they have to kill the snake. When one morning he announced to his friends that he has to return to Hogwarts, they thought he was joking. After all, it was far too dangerous. Someone could see them and inform Voldemort. When Hermione showed him clear drawbacks of this plan, Harry just smiled bitterly, as if he wanted to say, "That's my point."

Their pleas did nothing and a few days later they were in Hogsmeade. Their arrival activated some kind of an alarm and they escaped the Death Eaters only bacause of Dumbledore's younger brother help. The latter showed them a secret passage to the castle, looking at them skeptically. Harry accepted everything so calmly that Hermione began to worry even more. Upon their arrival to the castle, it was clear that Voldemort already knows.

“Harry, you endangered us all,” Hermione tried to talk some sense into her friend.

“Don't you understand?,” the boy asked. “Otherwise he would have never come here. _We must kill the snake._ ”

Hermione looked at him in amazement:

“The snake? You... you did it on purpose?”

“You didn't expect it from me, right?,” Harry gave her a downcast look. Probably a few weeks earlier he would try to turn Hermione's astonishment into a joke. “Kill the snake. Voldemort is mine.”

“But Harry... But you...” Ron tried to say something, but little came out of his mouth.

“Harry...” Hermione tried to stop him.

But he was already coming down the stairs. He passed his teachers and classmates, but it seemed like he didn't see them. Harry Potter stared into the distance, toward his inevitable destiny.

...

He never suspected he would die in the Forbidden Forest. He always thought he would win. Despite the fact that Voldemort was undeniably powerful, Harry always saw some hope for himself and even lived with an unwavering certainty that he will end on top. Until now - today he was not going to fight.

He suspected that Hermione took the diary and certainly destroyed it. There was no other option. Apparently his clever friend figured everything out. But how could she do it? She didn't even let him to say his goodbye. Did she know what was the true nature of the diary? He didn't dare to ask and now it didn't mattered either way.

Tom was gone. He disappeared.

What could Harry do? He didn't want to live anymore. Nothing made sense since the day it happened.

During those few weeks several times a thought ran through his mind - Tom certainly wouldn't want his death. He wished for Harry to live, raise a family, arrange himself a better future. But this lone thought, the last voice of reason, had not power to get through over the stunning and overwhelming wave of memories. Good memories, funny ones; those that evoked a smile on Harry's face and those that made him blush again. He cried. At the beginning he didn't care whether Ron and Hermione saw it. Then he began to conceal his despair, as if sharing it with anyone was profaning the memory of Tom.

He didn't manage to tell him how much he cared.

And he was gone before he could tell him that...

... what?

Harry wasn't sure. He only knew that he couldn't live in a world in which there was no Tom.

He walked through the Forbidden Forest, remembering every word, every mockery and every smile. It seemed to him that these were the gestures of distant past.

“Harry Potter,” he heard a cold voice and saw Voldemort before him.

Did he really used to be Tom? It seemed impossible. Tom would never so him any harm. Maybe he liked to amuse himself at his expense, but he never intentionally caused him trouble.

“The Boy Who Lived,” Lord Voldemort went on and though his voice was completely different than Tom's, Harry couldn't stop himself from thinking that it had a strangely familiar tone.

“Tom,” he whispered, barely opening his mouth.

“What did you say?” He heard the voice of his would-be murderer and something like irritability and ... curiosity in it?

“Tom,” he repeated, louder this time, trying to stop his voice from trembeling. When did he last use that name?

It seemed to him that some sort of indignation rose among the Death Eaters. The enraged tone of Bellatrix Lastrange came to his ears, as if she was ready to tear his throat apart with her nails for such an insult.

“Who let him say that? How dare you? How does he know? How do you know that name?,” the angry buzz zame to him from a distance.

“Silence!,” Voldemort hissed, surprised no less than his supporters. “Who told you?,” he waved his wand at Harry, so that the boy hit the ground. “Dumbledore?”

“Who told me?” Harry asked and his slightly mad laughter echoed through the quiet forest. “You did, Tom.”

He looked up and with some satisfaction noticed the stunned face of Lord Voldemort. It was worth it to come here if only for this view.

“How dare you?!,” another scream of Bellatrix cut the air and a curse flew toward him.

But it missed. After all the Dark Lord had to kill him personally. He waited for it long enough. And now the boy acted as if he finally lost his mind.

“What is this game you're playing, Potter?” Harry heard a mocking question. If he closed his eyes, with a little effort he could pretend that he was talking with Tom.

“I'm not playing, Tom. Or should I say _heir of Slytherin_? I know that you killed that little girl a long time ago and then you blamed Hagrid. I also know that you never liked pumpkin juice or potions, but you went to Slughorn's boring parties to find out what Horcruxes are. You see, they're gone. The tiara, the goblet, the locket, the ring... Your diary is gone too. And that snake of yours will be dead soon enough. And then... you will die.”

Harry didn't know why he said it all.

“My Lord, what is he...,” some, probably Lucius Malfoy, began, but Voldemort had to shut him up with a gesture.

Harry heard footsteps approaching.

He stood up. After all, he didn't want to die on the ground. And he hoped they won't torture him too long before it's over.

Harry saw the face of the Dark Lord. Or maybe Tom's face? He wasn't sure whom he had before him.

The Boy Who Lived looked into the strange red, cold eyes that he had once seen in Tom's feverish attack of madness.

 _How strange,_ Harry thought. _I came for death to the same Lord Voldemort I cannot live without. Ridiculous._

Was it this moment already? He never thought he would be waiting for death. And that he would wait so long.

Tom was still looking at him as if he was wondering about something. He couldn't remember they knew each other so long and so close.

And then suddenly Lord Voldemort raised his wand. Was it now?

 _For whom are you doing this?_ , a familiar voice asked somewhere in the back of his head.

_For myself. For once, I want to do something for myself._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue should be up tomorrow. Thanks for your comments and kudos!


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is dead, which happens to be a fortunate turn of events.

Harry felt light under his eyelids before he could open his eyes. It was neither cold nor hot. He didn't feel anything.

He opened his eyes. Where was he? Only silver mist was floating in the air, illuminated dust shining in it.

Harry saw something nearby. A small, ugly body, covered in blood. Did he want to help it? He was surprised that he has even asked himself such a questions. That something - he couldn't identify the body as a child – was screaming in piercing groans, as if it was dying. However, the boy didn't feel any need to save it.

"Harry," someone behind him called him by his name.

Was it possible...?

But did it mean that he was... dead?

_Who cares._

He turned quickly and found himself face to face with Tom. The latter, however, didn't look delighted to see his friend.

"What are you doing here, Harry?," he asked in a tone expressing strong disapproval.

"I suspect I'm dead," the boy replied silly, unable to suppress a smile. Certainly, he didn't go to hell.

"But _why_ are you dead?" Tom was beginning to get irritated. "It wasn't supposed to look like that..."

"Not like that?," Harry asked. „Aren't you glad to see me?"

"That's not what I meant, Harry..." Riddle denied, seeing the disappointment on the boy's face. "But you weren't the one to die, the Horcrux was."

"What are you talking about, Tom? What Horcrux?"

"Harry, _you_ were the last Horcrux," Tom said, trying to control his voice.

The boy looked at him in surprise. Did death ultimately messed up his already unbalanced friend's head? They've determined into how pieces Voldemort split his soul... Suddenly, Harry remembered the strange excuses Tom gave him, whenever he asked about Horcruxes. The boy glanced at the bloodied body on the floor... and the whole theory gained some sense. He was a Horcrux.

 _Was it the reason we understood each other so good?_ , he thought with concern. _After all, in a manner of speaking, we were the same person._

"Am I really dead?," he asked, his hand reaching toward Tom. He felt the warmth of Riddle's arms. Weren't the dead supposed to be cold?

"I'm not sure, Harry."

"But I want to be dead!," the boy burst out suddenly, causing Tom to laugh. Harry heard it for the first time in several weeks and thought it was worth dying for. "Where are we anyway?"

"I wanted to ask you the same question," Riddle smiled. He was still holding Harry's hand.

The boy looked intently around the mysterious place.

"It looks like a train station," he said after a moment of reflection. "What do you think I... _we_ can do now?"

"Catch a train maybe?," Tom suggested.

"Can leave them there?," Harry thought about his friends on the other side. "They know they have to kill the snake."

"I cannot decide for you," Tom Riddle said, releasing Harry's hand and taking a few steps back.

The boy immediately felt like he did for the last few weeks. He was alone. If he came back, would it change anything? Harry sincerely doubted it. He could defeat Voldemort, end the war, but was there anything for him to look for? He didn't think anyone else could replace... But what if Tom didn't want him here?

"I love you," Harry said suddenly, looking at Riddle with eyes full of expectations.

Within a moment, Tom was standing next to him, looking at him in a very disturbing way.

Harry didn't have enough time to think about it though, because Tom greedily embraced him, seeking his mouth with his own, as if to make up for all the lost time. Between kisses Harry could hear only a few words his friend muttered in a slightly mocking tone:

"I thought I wouldn't live to hear you say it."

"I wanted to take this secret to my grave," he answered with a smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end – thank you once again for all your comments and kudos. I hope you had fun reading „Forget me not”; I know it's not a perfect story and probably today I'd try to write it differently, but don't worry, I'll use my ideas in „The Boy Who Leapt Through Time”, so see you soon!


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